Years ago, I was introduced to the yumminess of Taiwanese pineapple cakes:
My mother-in-law brought this very brand back from Taiwan just before Isabelle was born (but after we had settled on a name - see the branding above (even the French spelling we chose!))
Eventually, Costco began to carry this exact brand seasonally, so we always buy a box. It's been a family tradition to have these around the Chinese New Year ever since.
All this is back-story for the following funny exchange at Costco when I recently bought a box while shopping solo (usually Costco is a family outing):
Chinese cashier: "You tried these before?"
Me: "Yep"
Cashier: "Hmm... usually Chinese people buy these to celebrate Chinese New Year."
(I start to realize I've been racially profiled: Why is this white guy buying pineapple cakes?)
Me: (defensively) "Yes - my wife is Chinese and the brand is the same name as my daughter: Isabelle!"
Cashier looks at the box and frowns, not seeing "Isabelle".
I point it out and realized she probably had never read the English brand name!
She smiles, visibly relieved that there is a rational explanation for this white dude buying Isabelle branded Taiwanese pineapple cakes.
We made some small talk which oddly wound up with her asking me what my son's name. She seemed oddly satisfied that his name is Sebastien. (I remember the old lady down the street from us in Burlington once told me they were "fancy" names.)
I left the store thinking on how when I get racially profiled I get to not feel like a victim at all, but rather my white privilege makes it a funny novelty that I even get to feel a little smug about afterwards.
Friday, December 28, 2018
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
Xmas at the Rideouts
The kids needs to split a communal gift of jelly beans.
At first they start to count it out, then Sebastien says "Let's use the mass gram weighy thing!"
Isabelle: "You mean the SCALE?"
Here they are carefully weighing out one jelly bean:
After divvying up the candy, Isabelle says the count does not look equal but Sebastien says "We did it by weight, but the individual beans might not be the same so it's okay if the count is not the same."
Next year, I expect them to mass 10 random beans and take the median value for their calculations...
At first they start to count it out, then Sebastien says "Let's use the mass gram weighy thing!"
Isabelle: "You mean the SCALE?"
Here they are carefully weighing out one jelly bean:
After divvying up the candy, Isabelle says the count does not look equal but Sebastien says "We did it by weight, but the individual beans might not be the same so it's okay if the count is not the same."
Next year, I expect them to mass 10 random beans and take the median value for their calculations...
Sunday, December 23, 2018
Tears, Empathy, and Fatherhood
It's a rocky road for a narcissist to get some empathy. Remember I'm the guy who tells all his students at some point, "I know you are all just holographic projections of my subconscious but I'll pretend to care anyway."
It all started with becoming a Dad. I started noticing things like getting uncomfortable watching or seeing kids get hurt in movies or on tv. Then I started actually being moved when asked to consider what being a Dad means to me (I remember a teacher workshop about identity when we were asked to put four important pieces of our own identity in the corners of a piece of paper and then tear one off at random and to consider what it would feel like to suppress that part of you for a day. I had to leave the room to 'get a drink of water' when mine came back missing "Dad").
This weekend, we watched "It's a Wonderful Life" for the first time as a family. ("Let's get it over with" was Sebastien's comment when we asked if we should watch it now or later in the holidays). I was just blithely being bemused by my enjoyment of such an unoriginal activity on our part, when George Bailey came home and started lashing out at his own family. Warm streaks were running down my face and Isabelle had to pat me on the back in confused sympathy as I wondered what kind of monster-with-feelings I've become.
The Dalai Lama really is onto something: Compassion is something you can learn and get better at!
It all started with becoming a Dad. I started noticing things like getting uncomfortable watching or seeing kids get hurt in movies or on tv. Then I started actually being moved when asked to consider what being a Dad means to me (I remember a teacher workshop about identity when we were asked to put four important pieces of our own identity in the corners of a piece of paper and then tear one off at random and to consider what it would feel like to suppress that part of you for a day. I had to leave the room to 'get a drink of water' when mine came back missing "Dad").
This weekend, we watched "It's a Wonderful Life" for the first time as a family. ("Let's get it over with" was Sebastien's comment when we asked if we should watch it now or later in the holidays). I was just blithely being bemused by my enjoyment of such an unoriginal activity on our part, when George Bailey came home and started lashing out at his own family. Warm streaks were running down my face and Isabelle had to pat me on the back in confused sympathy as I wondered what kind of monster-with-feelings I've become.
The Dalai Lama really is onto something: Compassion is something you can learn and get better at!
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
The Journey Not the Destination
I was giving a class the old "Enjoy where you are at right now, because the future ends the same way for us all" speech when I came across this photo from our recent trip to Paris (Irene snapped this of me while I was listening to the audioguide deep in the Catacombs beneath the city):
How cool that I am wearing my Voyager T-Shirt!
The ultimate journey-without-destination mission!
How cool that I am wearing my Voyager T-Shirt!
The ultimate journey-without-destination mission!
Why so difficult (part two)
Why haven't we cracked the code of what makes for a great classroom for learning?
The fads come and go, but the real formula for success seems to be partly magic. Recently I've been thinking a lot about the idea of holding two ideas simultaneously. As in the idea of a great artistic accomplishment - it's appealing at some simple level but it is also speaking to you profoundly at a metaphorical level at the same time (you may not even be aware of other level of appeal; it just feels moving or profound).
So, I'm thinking about education and thinking about this duality of great art and it occurs to me that two of my favorite ideas about education are needed at the same time:
(1) Learning happens inside the learner's head - no where else.
(2) Learning is primarily a social event.
Somehow the classroom must feel like a noteworthy social event while simultaneously encouraging the individual to construct their own schemas. Engagement, modeling, communication, and individualized construction must all be happening.
The fads come and go, but the real formula for success seems to be partly magic. Recently I've been thinking a lot about the idea of holding two ideas simultaneously. As in the idea of a great artistic accomplishment - it's appealing at some simple level but it is also speaking to you profoundly at a metaphorical level at the same time (you may not even be aware of other level of appeal; it just feels moving or profound).
So, I'm thinking about education and thinking about this duality of great art and it occurs to me that two of my favorite ideas about education are needed at the same time:
(1) Learning happens inside the learner's head - no where else.
(2) Learning is primarily a social event.
Somehow the classroom must feel like a noteworthy social event while simultaneously encouraging the individual to construct their own schemas. Engagement, modeling, communication, and individualized construction must all be happening.
The test of a first rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function. F. Scott Fitzgerald
The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. But the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth. Niels Bohr
Thoughts on Tests
Recently submitted to WSPN:
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What happened when I stopped returning tests
-Ken Rideout
Years ago, I used to cobble tests together anew each year. I had some question banks provided by various companies to draw from. I wrote some from scratch. I “borrowed” some from other physics teachers. It was fine. Kids learned physics; the tests sorted them into A’s, B’s, and C’s.
These tests, however, were never satisfying to me. Sometimes I would miscalculate the time it would take the students to complete it, or I would underestimate the subtle difficulties of a new problem I had just written. As a result, it was not unusual for me to have to scale a test by as much as 20%. Other times, I realized too late that the test was heavily geared towards certain topics in the unit and didn’t reflect other topics that we had spent an entire day or two on simply because certain types of questions are easier to write or are easier to find in test banks.
Here’s a specific example: Good questions about Newton’s third law are really hard to come by. Almost all test bank questions related to Newton’s third law involve simply being able to recite the words. I happen to think Newton’s third law is a subtle, powerful principle of how the universe works, and I spend a fair amount of time in class unpacking it and exploring the misconceptions around it. So, of course, I tried my hand at writing a test question that would reflect these subtleties. The first couple of attempts were pretty terrible. Students asked for clarification during the test (“What are you looking for here? What do you mean?”). Students answered the open-response question in such a way that made it very hard for me to grade. Eventually, the question evolved into a multiple-choice question and, after a few more years of refinements, I now have a really strong question that precisely gets at the underlying concept that we spend so much time on in class. Recalling and citing examples used in class is a great first step, but a true testimony to a student’s abiding understanding of fundamental issues only comes by applying them to novel situations. The student that gets this question right has demonstrated this deeper level of understanding.
Upon self-reflection, it’s clear that the kind of test question evolution described above only came about after I stopped returning tests. If teachers return tests and allow the students to keep them, they may circulate in the community and wind up in the hands of future generations of students. I have seen previous years’ tests spill out of a current student’s folder (an older sibling’s name on the papers). I have had students ask me to go over specific questions during review that sound exactly like last year’s test question. I would never have taken the time to refine that Newton’s third law question year after year if I knew that it would just devolve into a memorized, recall-style answer for the students.
Some surprising things happened along the way once I started to have these authentic, customized, highly evolved tests: I started changing my exposition of Newton’s third law in class from “There will be a question on Newton’s third law on the test” to “There will be a question where you will have to differentiate equal and opposite forces that happen to cancel out from equal and opposite action-reaction forces.” Also, when returning the tests and asking “Any questions?”, I now get a deluge of questions because the students know that this is their best window of opportunity to clarify their mistakes as I will be collecting their tests at the end of the block. Previously, they would toss the test in their backpack or folder and promise themselves they would look at it “later” – the test review would be over in five minutes. Also, now I run little experiments from year to year like, “What difference will it make in the percentage of students that get this question correct on the test this year because I did the Newton’s third law lab as an introductory, exploratory-style lab rather than a confirmation-after-the-lecture lab?” This type of scientific pedagogical exploration would not be possible without using the same test question year after year.
What about students not having access to their tests at home when they are studying for the mid-year or final? My observation here is the same one I had after I stopped giving them a review packet for the mid-year or final: They do just fine or even better. Students can and occasionally do come by the science office to consult a copy of the test questions, but a focus on just those few questions on the unit tests does not represent the true scope of the course. Going back to the homeworks, the notes, the handouts, the textbook itself, etc. obliges the student to synthesize the entirety of the course. Reviewing specific test questions offers an illusion of fluency: “I know how to answer #5 so I’m good!” rather than, “Gee, how did that Newton’s third law work again?” My only caveat here is that when I first stopped giving review packets, some students simply did not study for the mid-year or final, and they certainly did worse. I’ve subsequently become very explicit about giving them a speech about their responsibilities in the lack of such a packet.
In short, in my search for a better test, I found myself with better pedagogy overall.
Note from the author: I’ve formulated these thoughts about my own personal journey in teaching Honors Physics through the years. I know that every course and every teacher has their own emphasis and their own focus, and I hope it goes without saying that my own reflections should in no way be construed as a judgement or even advice to other teachers. I couldn’t be prouder of working shoulder to shoulder with so many talented and dedicated professionals as I do here at Wayland High School.
Saturday, December 8, 2018
Chaotic Learning
The other day we were popcorn reading Feynman's conservation of energy metaphor involving blocks that don't exist, a mother more concerned with finding those blocks than with good parenting, and a boy locked in a room with dirty bathtub water. Hey - it's a serious thing, conservation of energy!
We were interrupting ourselves by making fun of people not reading right or my getting confused about who was actually reading as they popcorned around. At one point I called a student "perverse' but another heard me say "pervert." Some kids started yanking my chain by recording my voice when it was my turn to read saying that I should be a professional reader of books-on-tape. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Hive Mind taking a group selfie while someone else was reading about why conservation laws even exist. Needless to say it was a pretty boisterous Friday physics class. Crazy times but I think Feynman's point about the power and the abstractness of energy conservation did get across.
Later that day, the teacher who had been trying to have a normal class next door said to me "Gee, Mr. Rideout - are you having a party or teaching in there?"
I said "Both."
We were interrupting ourselves by making fun of people not reading right or my getting confused about who was actually reading as they popcorned around. At one point I called a student "perverse' but another heard me say "pervert." Some kids started yanking my chain by recording my voice when it was my turn to read saying that I should be a professional reader of books-on-tape. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Hive Mind taking a group selfie while someone else was reading about why conservation laws even exist. Needless to say it was a pretty boisterous Friday physics class. Crazy times but I think Feynman's point about the power and the abstractness of energy conservation did get across.
Later that day, the teacher who had been trying to have a normal class next door said to me "Gee, Mr. Rideout - are you having a party or teaching in there?"
I said "Both."
A Tripod of Books
Recently a student (AT) asked for a book recommendation. I did cough up one of the three below, but the question threw me into an existential crises. Do I make a recommendation from the catalogue of my 40 or so years of reading? Do I try to project one my favorites into what I know about her psyche? And, to top it all off, I am painfully aware of how subjective my own list of favorite books is. If only I had read that book when I was 16! Or, if only I had waited to read this other book until I was in my late 20's. If only I had tackled this classic at a quieter time in my life, I might have appreciated it more. Anyway, I've decided to work myself out of this existential crises by thinking about which books from my teenager years were the most influential on my own imagination. Which books catapulted me at that time in my life into a world so rich or foreign or disturbing that when I came back from the out-of-body experience that was reading it, the landscape of my dreams and my constant inner Walter Mitty was forever changed?
Once I posed the question in this way to myself, these three books sprang right up and if I think about other books I love or that were influential, they don't come close to these three according the criteria I listed above. I just happened to be in the right frame of mind and at the right place in my life for them to plant seeds all over my subconscious:
1. Dune by Frank Herbert. 12 years after reading this book, I was so powerfully moved telling a friend about why I love it so much that I stood up to act out a scene from the book just the way it plays out in my head. In fact, when recommending it the other day, I had to force myself to stop talking about my favorite parts in order to not spoil their own experience of it!
2. The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper. The only book I read twice as a teenager. Every time I walk through the woods (every single time!), images from that book waft through my mind like real memories.
3. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. I actually blogged about this one in 2010.
What will I do the next time a student asks for a recommendation? I don't know - probably have another existential crises!
Once I posed the question in this way to myself, these three books sprang right up and if I think about other books I love or that were influential, they don't come close to these three according the criteria I listed above. I just happened to be in the right frame of mind and at the right place in my life for them to plant seeds all over my subconscious:
1. Dune by Frank Herbert. 12 years after reading this book, I was so powerfully moved telling a friend about why I love it so much that I stood up to act out a scene from the book just the way it plays out in my head. In fact, when recommending it the other day, I had to force myself to stop talking about my favorite parts in order to not spoil their own experience of it!
2. The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper. The only book I read twice as a teenager. Every time I walk through the woods (every single time!), images from that book waft through my mind like real memories.
3. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. I actually blogged about this one in 2010.
What will I do the next time a student asks for a recommendation? I don't know - probably have another existential crises!
Saturday, December 1, 2018
Another Saturday Night...
... of nerd talk at the Rideout Household...
Seb: "I've got a nerd joke."
Me: "Let's hear it."
Seb: "Say Mommy asks me to do something, like get the laundry. I could just say 'potassium'."
Me: confused
Isabelle: "That's not very funny."
Irene: "It's not very practical, either. 'Potassium' has more syllables than 'K'."
Seb: "Well, I said it was a nerd joke - I didn't say it was practical!"
Me: "Well, you could just ask people their opinion by asking 'Sodium or Potassium' "
Irene: eyeroll
Isabelle: "That's funny!"
Irene: "But the negative is usually spelled 'nah'."
Me: eyeroll "Why you always gotta rain on my parade?"
Irene: "It's what I do best."
Seb: "I've got a nerd joke."
Me: "Let's hear it."
Seb: "Say Mommy asks me to do something, like get the laundry. I could just say 'potassium'."
Me: confused
Isabelle: "That's not very funny."
Irene: "It's not very practical, either. 'Potassium' has more syllables than 'K'."
Me: "Well, you could just ask people their opinion by asking 'Sodium or Potassium' "
Irene: eyeroll
Isabelle: "That's funny!"
Irene: "But the negative is usually spelled 'nah'."
Me: eyeroll "Why you always gotta rain on my parade?"
Irene: "It's what I do best."
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