Observations

My dedicated readers will note that I haven't been writing every day.  That's because I'm only going to Edison two days a week while I take classes, and my classes started yesterday.  And I decided that I'm really only going to write about my experience at Edison, since I'm not sure my experience at college is all that interesting--and it doesn't really fit within my vision for this little writing project.  So expect some meditations two days a week about what I see and hear and feel and think at Edison.

Today I did several observations.  One of our assignments is to pick a focal student and then go watch that child in action in a couple of other classes.  I have already done some observations and written about them on this blog.  For this round of observations I focused on two students, both of whom I identified as kids I wanted to know more about: Sadie and Selena.  I then went and observed each child in a different class (Sadie in Social Studies, Selena in Band), and I focused my entire observation on the behaviors I observed, limiting myself to observations only--no interpretations or evaluations.

A few things I noticed Sadie in her Social Studies class.  Sadie was basically in constant motion in class: rotating the rings on her fingers, biting her nails, examining her nails, twirling a lock of her hair, putting said lock of her hair in her mouth, adjusting her tee-shirt, her bra, reaching down to scratch her ankle (three times), leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms across her chest, leaning forward on her table and using her binder as a pillow, crossing and uncrossing her arms.  In the thirty minutes I observed, Sadie did not speak a single word.  I observed her writing something on a piece of paper four times in response to something she heard Mr. French say aloud.  At least four times during the observation she turned around to look at a peer who said something--either in response to a question asked by the teacher or an unprompted outburst.  She looked back and smiled at a boy sitting behind her twice.  During the entire class, I saw her smile only once, immediately after Mr. French made a comment about "magical things never happening in the real world."  I had a hard time seeing her face because of where I was sitting, but she appeared to be watching the screen from which Mr. French was reading and lecturing.

A few things I noticed about Selena in her Band class.  Selena also moved, but her motion was less limited.  During my forty minute observation, she left her perch from behind two purple congas to get a number of percussion instruments, a chair, her music folder and to take a pair of drumsticks away from another child.  She spoke several times in class to several peers (all girls) who were seated near her and were also members of the percussion section of the band.  When she spoke to the other students, she gave directions ("Look at page 22"; "stop talking"; "it's really simple, you just play every other beat").  The two girls she gave instructions two laughed in response to her instructions.  At one point Mr. Glasson mentioned that he and his wife had been married for 23 years; Selena responded: "My parents have been married for 24 years."  Immediately following her comment the two girls who had laughed before laughed again.  Selena made eye contact with Mr. Glasson when he was conducting; she also appeared to be tracking the music when she wasn't playing.

I'm not entirely sure what I learned from doing these observations.  I'm not inclined to draw any hard conclusions from them.  I do like the discipline of the exercise, the focus on observable behaviors; there is an art to withholding judgment, particularly in the world of teaching and learning, where children feel as though they are under constant surveillance--and where that surveillance is pretty much always tied to judgment.  I like the idea that, at least for a few hours today, I was there merely to  see these children, to see and observe and not make any assumptions or draw any conclusions.  I have this sneaking suspicion that, at the end of the day, what these children really want--more than learning to write sentences or factor equations--is to be seen and heard and known just as they are.