Inquiring Minds Want to Know
This woman's emphatic declaration reminded me of a situation in my classroom this semester.
I have my students write reflection journals for the first ten minutes of class. On the first day, I discuss with my students the possibility of their opinions not being their own.
"Nobody tells me what to think or do."
"Yeah right--I don't follow anyone. They follow me."
"What? How's that even possible?"
"This is dumb."
Such is the start of this conversation with my students. I ask them to tell me what the first word that comes to mind when they think of the word "terrorist." They all scream, "ARAB!"
I then ask them to tell me who the best singer is right now. Out of 7 to 10 students, they all name 1 to 2 artists. I ask them to look at their shoes--out of 7 to 10 students, 1 to 2 brands are worn (Nike or Chuck Taylors).
Some students start recognizing a pattern. Even though there are 7 to 10 individual minds in the room, there are usually only 1 to 2 opinions. We discuss this and, not to outline the whole discussion here, the point is my students recognize they may have indeed lost touch with their own voices.
I then ask them to listen to their voices in their heads and write out the first sincere question they hear. Then I say this:
"Nope--not that first voice. That's MTV. No--not that one either, that's your friends. Nu-uh, that one is CNN and Fox News. Sorry--nope, that one is your mom. Turn them all off. Listen to that quiet little one that you might have buried a long time ago..."
At this point, a majority of the students start writing but one student always drops his/her pencil and asks, "But Miss! I don't have any questions! I don't wonder about anything."
"If that were true, you'd be braindead. And I can prove it. We all naturally question the world around us every day, every second."
I ask all students to drop their pencils and ask them to imagine the following:
"Take yourself back to when you are about 4 or 7 years old. You're in the backseat of your car on a sunny day. You're looking up at the sky and you notice the sun today. You notice the car goes right. The car goes left. You go straight. Right again." They are all intently listening, waiting for it...
"Now, what did each and every one of us--every single one of us in that very same backseat--what did each of us wonder at that very moment?"
Silence.
"OH! IS THE SUN FOLLOWING ME!" Everyone shouts in agreement--and then astonishment: "You too?! Oh my God! I swear to God I thought it was just me!"
And then all their childhood wonderings come out. Wondering how the leaves change color. Where does hair come from? Does God just push play on a video of our lives? Does my dad move the steering wheel or does the steering wheel move my dad? And the question that children really aren't having anymore thanks to cable: "Where do babies come from?"
We all wonder. We all want to learn. It's just a matter of learning to listen again to our wonderings.
Posted in on May 08, 2010 - 10:59 PM
"I have NEVER met a student who didn't want to learn--not one!" voiced a brilliant woman today at our Detroit IDEA launch party.This woman's emphatic declaration reminded me of a situation in my classroom this semester.
I have my students write reflection journals for the first ten minutes of class. On the first day, I discuss with my students the possibility of their opinions not being their own.
"Nobody tells me what to think or do."
"Yeah right--I don't follow anyone. They follow me."
"What? How's that even possible?"
"This is dumb."
Such is the start of this conversation with my students. I ask them to tell me what the first word that comes to mind when they think of the word "terrorist." They all scream, "ARAB!"
I then ask them to tell me who the best singer is right now. Out of 7 to 10 students, they all name 1 to 2 artists. I ask them to look at their shoes--out of 7 to 10 students, 1 to 2 brands are worn (Nike or Chuck Taylors).
Some students start recognizing a pattern. Even though there are 7 to 10 individual minds in the room, there are usually only 1 to 2 opinions. We discuss this and, not to outline the whole discussion here, the point is my students recognize they may have indeed lost touch with their own voices.
I then ask them to listen to their voices in their heads and write out the first sincere question they hear. Then I say this:
"Nope--not that first voice. That's MTV. No--not that one either, that's your friends. Nu-uh, that one is CNN and Fox News. Sorry--nope, that one is your mom. Turn them all off. Listen to that quiet little one that you might have buried a long time ago..."
At this point, a majority of the students start writing but one student always drops his/her pencil and asks, "But Miss! I don't have any questions! I don't wonder about anything."
"If that were true, you'd be braindead. And I can prove it. We all naturally question the world around us every day, every second."
I ask all students to drop their pencils and ask them to imagine the following:
"Take yourself back to when you are about 4 or 7 years old. You're in the backseat of your car on a sunny day. You're looking up at the sky and you notice the sun today. You notice the car goes right. The car goes left. You go straight. Right again." They are all intently listening, waiting for it...
"Now, what did each and every one of us--every single one of us in that very same backseat--what did each of us wonder at that very moment?"
Silence.
"OH! IS THE SUN FOLLOWING ME!" Everyone shouts in agreement--and then astonishment: "You too?! Oh my God! I swear to God I thought it was just me!"
And then all their childhood wonderings come out. Wondering how the leaves change color. Where does hair come from? Does God just push play on a video of our lives? Does my dad move the steering wheel or does the steering wheel move my dad? And the question that children really aren't having anymore thanks to cable: "Where do babies come from?"
We all wonder. We all want to learn. It's just a matter of learning to listen again to our wonderings.
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