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To Each its Own: Targeting My Professional Development Workshops

In the last couple months I've had whole bunches of fun presenting professional development workshops in a variety of settings, to a variety of people.  Let's see...math teachers from all over the U.S., PE teachers from across Indiana, classroom teachers from Indianapolis, fellow Teaching Artists from a variety of disciplines, and arts education administrators from Young Audiences affiliates from around the country. 

Each session bore the title 'Math in Your Feet' and was a combination of big picture information and hands-on experience, but that is where the similarity ended and my job got really interesting!

For the classroom teachers I started by focusing on the challenges of using movement in a classroom setting.  As they started to move and experiment with foot-based percussive patterns they became more comfortable and sure in their own movement.  This approach usually leads to a greater willingness to embrace, sometimes for the first time, the possibility of leading their own students in movement-based learning.  To some extent I am also encouraging them to have fun with math, many for the first time.  I consider the 'doing and making' of percussive dance patterns in this program the same as the 'doing and making' of math so, in every teacher workshop I do, I walk them step by step through the intersection where math and dance meet.  We're so used to focusing on the symbolic, static realm of mathematics that we don't always recognize when we see math happening in front of our eyes.  It helps to have a guide.

For the self-identified math teachers at the NCTM annual meeting I also started with a message of 'anyone can lead movement in the classroom and here are some tools' but then quickly moved toward 'here is an opportunity for your students to represent their math understanding in a new way within the kinesthetic realm'.  I also drew their attention to the fact that the processes of solving a problem in both math and dance (choreography) are often similar -- question, understand what tools it might take to answer the question, experiment with ideas, use your resources, find an answer that seems to work, evaluate and then ask more questions. 

The group of 80 or so PE teachers was a new one for me simply because there was not one bit of trepidation or reluctance to get up and move!  Not all of them were comfortable with the idea of dance, at least initially, but they were definitely game.  I was only with them for about an hour, and I couldn't go very deep, so I stuck with active modeling of the bridge between my particular brand of movement with an academic content area.  If I had had more time with them, I would have focused on the  process for moving the dance to the page -- speaking the words that describe aspects of our movement as we move, writing those words down, turning these words into symbols, and graphing foot positions on a coordinate grid.  I did the point that Math in Your Feet can be a collaboration between classroom and specials teachers, just like it is when I lead my residency.  The concrete movement and math activities can be done in PE or music class which then build the bridge to the formal, written, symbolic realm of math back in the regular classroom.

At their conference the arts education administrators were focusing on how to add the A in arts to STEM topics (STEM to STEAM).  I gave a general overview of the program and laid out my process for building the program and integrating the dance with the math.  The most important issue for me is that when you are thinking about integrating any art form with another content area you really need to be honest with yourself and ask 'is it a good fit?'  If the answer is no then it is not worth forcing the issue.  If you think 'maybe' then do a little more work to explore the connections.  In the end, though, the connections need to be more than skin deep.  Just because we count our beats in this program doesn't mean I consider that a good example of what math and dance have in common.  I also gave a similar account of how I combined math and dance to my fellow Teaching Artists.

My favorite moments while teaching teachers are when they ask me questions that show me they are imagining how they will do this work with their own students.  It's similar to house hunting, I suppose.  The minute you start imagining where you're going to put your furniture the realtor knows you might really be serious!  I love hearing all the different ways engaged and caring education professionals imagine tailoring my ideas for their own particular learning environments. 

Divided Loyalties?

In the process of exploring the intersections between math and dance I find that I seem to camp out in one subject for a while, and then pack up and move on back to the other camp.  Frankly, it leaves me feeling a bit fractured, which is interesting since I have declared in the past that in Math in Your Feet the two subjects come together 'seamlessly.' 

Maybe for the kids, yes, but not for me.  So let's focus on me for a moment.

This issue shows up in my teaching.  When I am thinking too closely about the math, my feet don't move in class.  They don't talk.  I forget to use the one great attention getter I have that nobody else does -- my tap shoes!  I forget to start our sessions with the art and instead hurry forward to the math. 

My most recently completed residency at Christel House Academy has made me think of this.  The residency was part of a pilot project by Young Audiences to evaluate the structure of their new Signature Core Services and the elements that interact to create a quality arts learning experience.  They wanted to know if and how these elements were brought out in this particular arts-based programming.  But me? I was worried about how I was teaching the math and was surprised that they didn't even care about that (for the purposes of the pilot).  That shows you where my mind is these days, doesn't it? 

I've also spent a lot of time overly focused on the dance (mostly in the first few years of developing the program) but these days?  These days, as I teach, I have mostly been taking the dance for granted.  I am quite surprised and somewhat alarmed to realize that I've been seeing dance as a means to an end.  I'm horrified, actually! This is not really supposed to happen in an integration and I'm really supposed to be on the side of the dancing right?  Yes, we're dancing and moving our bodies at least two thirds of each workshop, but I am realizing now just how much my mind has been over at the math camp.

I think this might be because I've been spending much of my creative work time this fall focused on learning about math.  I've been trying to figure out what math means:  What is math really?  What other kinds of math are we doing in this program besides the ones I know about already?  What kinds of conversations are these kids having about the math while they're dancing?  The learning I've engaged in, I believe, has been a full out creative process, one full of questions, dead ends, frustration, problem solving (What don't I know?  Where do I need to go to find out?  What sorts of questions do I need to ask?  Am I asking the right questions?) and 'aha!' moments. 

My intellectual explorations have affected my teaching in the past as well.  Earlier in the development of Math in Your Feet, when I was still trying to figure out how the dance and math fit together I was deeply engaged in exploring the integration aspect of the program and  my teaching at the time reflected this.  Although I did have questions about the value of teaching the integration (and still do; mostly I think it's a good tactic) I was working it out in the classroom none-the-less.

So here's a question: If the basic flow of the residency content stays the same, does it matter if my interests bias our focus, even if slightly?  Does it matter if I'm over in the math camp while teaching a dance-based program?

Maybe my loyalties to both camps are like siblings vying for their mother's attention.  I am essentially acting as the content specialist for both camps simultaneously and it's hard to pay attention to both equally at the same time. 

Maybe I embody the reality of integration and the inherent tensions therein?  It's interesting to reflect on this question because, since it's just me responsible for both content areas, we can't blame the tension on personality conflicts between teaching artist and classroom teacher.

Maybe none of this matters because one's best teaching comes when you're enthusiastic, engaged and truly interested in the subject matter. 

Maybe it doesn't matter which camp I'm in on any given day or year because the truth is the kids are moving, they're dancing, they're thinking intensely with their bodies and they're learning a whole lot of math, all at the same time.

I've been told on numerous occasions that I think too much, but who was it that said an 'unexamined life is not worth living'?  (I just Googled it, it was Socrates.)  I think it is important for me to ask questions about where my loyalties lie even if, in the end, it doesn't matter.  I'm a process person, I live in the moments between.  And, I know I'm a better teacher when I'm inspired, whether it be by math or dance or reading Carla Hannaford's book Smart Moves like I did in the Fall of 2009.  Hopefully my dance friends will put up with my math obsessions for a while.  I'll be back soon!

Link: Resources for Integrating Dance with Curriculum

Hey y'all!  Look what I found this morning -- a beautiful and thoughtful blog from a dance specialist in the Seattle Public Schools. 

I really wanted to share because this is the real deal.  I don't know for sure, but I think many of my readers are curious about how dance and/or movement fit together with math, and maybe other subjects as well.  There's a lot to sort through out there in web-world, so I was excited to find this. 

Here's a great link from her blog with a list of resources for integrating dance with curriculum.  You might also like the big picture of her work here.

This Looks Interesting: Math & Movement Program

I'm curious what you think about this Math & Movement program. 

I found it online and it looks interesting and helpful on a couple levels.  Right now, my only clear thought is that it's probably an effective way to get kids moving in classrooms where they normally wouldn't be by helping their teachers become comfortable with using movement as a learning tool.  But, I'm not sure about the program's singular math focus on numaracy (numbers, counting, multiplication, etc.)  There is more than counting in math, and more than counting in movement, too. 

I have other thoughts, but I'm curious about yours.  Even if no one comments on this post, I'll have a follow up discussion with myself, but it'll be more interesting to hear what you think!

The Right to Move

My daughter (5 years old), upon the occasion visiting a standard fourth grade classroom, remarking on the desks and chairs:

"What's with all this sitting around?"

The teacher's response:

"Well, we try not to do too much of that."

My daughter, proudly, in reply:

"At my kindergarten [half-day program] we only sit around at circle time.  We get to go outside before circle time, and then again after snack..."

I'm not sure if I am rubbing off on her or if this is her own individual expression and sense of entitlement speaking.  In her world, she gets to move, at home and at school.  And what's more, she seems to be cognizant of the fact that she has this freedom, that she is allowed to move and is not tied down to a desk. 

As we work, literally one step at a time, to get kids the opportunities for movement which they need for brain and body growth, as well strong and resilient spirits, I think I will keep this image firmly at the center of my mind: the little girl who believes so firmly that movement is her birthright.

Not an add-on, not an extra, and not something to be earned. A right.

Teachers: Be There and Be (in a) Square!

Are you going to the NCTM 2011 Annual Meeting in Indianapolis, IN in April? 

I'll be there, so let me know your plans!  My 90 minute hands-on workshop Math in Your Feet: Teaching Geometry through Rhythm and Movement is one of the 650 presentations offered.  I was excited to see that it's been included in their presentation sampling for the 3-5 grade band. 

Come even if you're just curious, but know that teachers can learn to do this too and many before you have successfully implemented Math in Your Feet programming in their own classrooms!  A few years ago I developed a two-part professional development series in association with Clowes Memorial Hall of Butler University and Young Audiences of Indiana.  As part of this process I participated in the Kennedy Center's Seminar, "Artists as Educators: Planning Effective Workshops for Teachers."  This six-hour professional development series presents Math in Your Feet as a sequential program of activities which anyone can teach, even if they don't wish to do much moving themselves. 

My hands-on NCTM workshop will present a portion of the Math in Your Feet program.  You will be engaged in an in-depth investigation of transformations using simple foot-based patterns.  In particular, we'll harness the power of kinesthetic learning for understanding reflection and rotation symmetries in 3-D, a process which I'm sure will bring you some exciting new insights on the subject.  In addition to the math content you will experience learning with and through the arts. 

Hope to see you there...in a square!

The Space Between / Transitions

I think about a lot of things, and something I have thought a lot about are transitions.  When I teach clogging or step dance I think about how to explain to my students the variations and subtleties of transitioning weight or how to finish one step successfully and move on to the next.  My child, who has a regulation disorder, has needed me to pay close attention to the daily transitions/routines in her life since birth. I watch my own reactions to unexpected changes in my concept of what 'should' be happening in my day.  I am aware of, mostly after it's already started to happen, the subtle shift of life as it moves from now to past. 

(This seems to be a somewhat philosophical post, but even that is starting to shift...)

So it probably won't surprise you to hear that I think about transitions every time I walk into a classroom.  When one works with moving kids a transition can be a moment ripe with opportunity or a potential stumbling block, a great teaching moment or a train wreck.  I find these moving-while-learning kinds of transitions the ones that require a particular kind of attention and respect.

I suppose my approach to classroom transitions stems from my experience as an artist whose medium is space and time.  From where I stand, a transition is a moment when you have to simultaneously distinguish between something as it was, as it is, and as it will be.  Dancers (and musicians, too) encounter moments when they need to talk with themselves, the choreographer or other dancers about how to move from one moment or step to the next.  This attention to detail is just part of the process but its also a process that can be fraught with opposing viewpoints, confusion, and tension over all aspects of interpretation of the moment.  And, because dance (and music) exist in such temporal space (meaning here and then not-here in a split second) one usually spends 1000 times more time working out the transitional moments than actually performing them.  When resolved, the agreed upon transitional moment can be a thing of beauty, a seamless moment of artistry.

In my role as a dancer and a musician, dealing with transitions are part of the job.  In that particular context, if transitions don't get a certain amount of attention or respect all you'll end up with are unconnected pieces of movement or sound devoid of form or meaning or, at the very least, lacking the quality you would desire.  It's practically the same experience for me when I bring my art into an academic setting. 

I consider teaching (whatever the subject) the art of working in time and space to organize, focus and energize multiple bodies and minds.  If I walk into our dance space with my lesson plan but have paid no attention to the spaces between the bullet points, it is highly likely that my day will be quite unsatisfactory, perhaps even, as I said above, fraught with opposing viewpoints, confusion, and tension over all aspects of interpretation of the moment.

That sounds heavy, but just how do you stop bodies and ideas in motion?  The child's choice to pay attention is just that -- a choice.  It is, of course, expected that in school you pay attention and follow directions, but what if you are paying attention, just that all of your focus and intent is on what your feet are doing?  My own daughter gets so caught up in her projects that we continually have to strategize on ways to disengage her from her work when it's time for school, or dinnertime, or bedtime.  This is all to point out that transitions can be HARD, especially if you're emotionally invested in what you're doing now and are still in the now even when it's time to go to the next thing.

How do you stop bodies and ideas in motion, when needed?  My strategy has become to make the transition part of what we're learning and to make sure that as we go from here to there we are still on-topic.  Here's an example of a classic moment in my program, one that has often been "fraught with opposing viewpoints, confusion, and tension" for me, at least until I paid attention to it and found myself a solution.  This classic moment is called:
 

Me working the "Countdown to Silence"

Kids Are Standing and Need to Sit Down

Just telling a moving kid to sit down and expecting them be instantly ready to focus on verbal or visual directions is a hit or miss strategy, if you don't mind me saying.  A moving body needs a few focused seconds to calm itself down and turn on the eyes and ears.  Because I value the power of a group making rhythm together, I created a simple rhythmic countdown (which you can learn for yourself if you ever happen to see my work) which seems to do the trick.  It brings the whole room back to focus.  Kids can find their center even while sitting.  This countdown is a simple verbal and physical rhythmic reminder every time we transition from moving to sitting and is usually enough to help kids get ready to bring in new information.  This kind of transition also helps to maintain consistent composure of the group over the course of the lesson. 

Sometimes, if you just pay attention to and clarify the intent of a moment, especially an in between moment, the solution will be waiting.  A philosophical yet potentially useful mindset.