The chance to feel frustrated

I’m pleased to welcome the illustrious Kami Wilt, of the Austin Tinkering School and Austin Mini Maker Faire, to Alt Ed Austin’s lineup of guest bloggers. Here she discusses the challenges and rewards of frustration. She'd love to hear about your experiences, so I encourage you to leave Kami a comment or question below.

Recently I was leading a class and was, as usual, doing several things at once: plugging in the glue guns, showing someone how to test his battery with the multimeter, getting out the sharpies for the kid who has to decorate every inch of available space—the usual. This is the kind of usual that I totally love.

True to the tinkering ethos, we had an outcome in mind, but we left it open-ended as to how to arrive at that outcome. In tinkering, we try to create projects where kids are encouraged to design and create and problem-solve on their own. We consciously choose not to create too many projects (though sometimes they have their place) that are just follow-along-with-the-teacher activities (“Cut here, fold there, and now we all have a toy car that looks exactly the same! Wheee!”).

Anyway, I had a kid who was stuck. He hadn't been stuck for long. But he was stuck, and the expression on his face read, “Frustrated.” He was SO CLOSE, and I wanted so much to take his project out of his hands and just get it working for him. In fact, the urge to just get it going and spare us both the experience of feeling frustrated and stuck for even one second was almost unbearably uncomfortable. But I decided to ride it out for just a few moments more. Interestingly, he didn't disengage or walk away from the table. I stood next to him and quietly looked at his project with him. I didn't talk a lot or offer suggestions (and he didn't ask for any). I'm sure you can guess the moral of this story: After a few moments of rumination and meditation, the next step revealed itself. His excitement and ownership of the project were not infringed on by me, and now he has a cool experience in his memory bank of working through frustration successfully.

Why is it so hard for us to let our kids feel frustration? It makes me break out in an icy sweat sometimes, and I supposedly have experience in these matters. Luckily, I have my mentor, Gever Tulley, who created Tinkering School and Brightworks in San Francisco, to inspire me and keep me motivated to create experiences where kids have time and space to work on projects (and all the accompanying successes and failures) in their own way, free from an overabundance of adult imposition. An ability to manage and work through frustration is essential to almost anyone in our world who gets anything done. As I overheard one kid say to another recently, “A genius is someone who tries something and if it doesn't work out, he tries something else. And if that doesn't work out, he tries something else. And if that doesn't work out, he tries something else.” Couldn’t have said it better myself!

I think we disrespect children when we assume they can't handle a moment of frustration. It can be really beneficial for a child to have space to think through something on her own, without having an adult jump in and prod her along. We adults can at times be overzealous in our roles as supervisors and facilitators of experiences. As Gever said in one of his great TED talks, “We, the adults, are superheroes, endowed with the power of supervision. Let us use our powers wisely and be amazed at what children can do.”

Kami Wilt

Creating school culture

This guest post by Tom Bohman provides a fascinating case study of the judiciary process in action at the democratically run Clearview Sudbury School, where Tom serves on the staff.

When I read the complaint form to our Judiciary Committee (JC), I knew the day had come when our school would have to decide a thorny issue: How do school rules apply to virtual worlds in multi-player online games? Before telling more about this particular issue, let me explain about our school’s uniquely American way of protecting individual rights while also balancing them with other potentially competing school community concerns.

Students and staff conduct a Judiciary Committee hearing at the Clearview Studbury School

At the Clearview Sudbury School, rules are democratically determined at the School Meeting, in which staff and students have an equal vote. The School Meeting delegates to the JC the responsibility of ensuring that students and staff follow rules and providing a forum to address School Meeting members’ concerns about their rights. Two students and one staff member comprise the JC, and they vote on whether a rule was broken and, if one was, determine a consequence when necessary. A complaint form specifies who is raising the issue, whom the complaint is against, witnesses, and the details of the situation. All School Meeting members can attend JC hearings and ask questions or provide commentary. All students, no matter their age, are expected to serve on the JC, including our youngest students, who may be five years old.

This particular complaint was initiated by an eight-year-old female student (whom we’ll call Amy) against a nine-year-old male student (whom we’ll call Eric) regarding actions that took place in Minecraft, a game that can be played in different ways. Minecraft provides a rich virtual world in which students typically construct amazing structures, especially their houses, in which they invest much creative thought and energy. The game also contains a player versus player (PvP) component in which players compete against each other. Amy's complaint said that Eric had harassed her during the game when, after being invited into Amy’s house, he killed her online character and took resources from the house. I was randomly selected by the JC chair, a nine-year-old student we’ll call Steve, along with a six-year-old student we’ll call Sally, to hear the case.
 
The JC room was full as Amy and Eric in turn described what happened from their perspectives. Amy reported that she had changed the inside of her house on the Minecraft server that many students played on and invited Eric to see those changes. Amy also said that students on the server typically engaged in creative activities in an open-ended and non-competitive fashion. Eric said he was trying to work on his house and needed the resources that Amy had acquired and decided to take them so he could reach his goal. My reaction was that Eric had violated Amy’s rights to be free from interference by others at school as she pursued her self-directed learning. Eric’s defense, which other School Meeting members strongly supported, was that Eric was playing by the rules of the game as allowed on that particular Minecraft server because PvP mode was turned on (not all Minecraft servers allow this). Since Amy chose to play on that server where PvP was allowed, she had the responsibility to accept that other players could play competitively. I argued that our school should be developing a culture in which our interpersonal relationships count the most, and Amy had asked Eric to stop his activity, which Eric ignored. Eric and other school meeting members said that it was unfair for him to be penalized for following the rules of the game that Amy had implicitly agreed to by playing on that server.
 
After a long, emotional debate, the three JC committee members voted that Amy had been harassed. Since this was the first time this issue was raised and it was clear that Eric did not know that the harassment rule would be applied in this case, he was given a warning as a consequence.

However, we weren’t quite done. As part of our school’s commitment to due process, where everyone’s rights are protected to the full extent possible, any School Meeting member can appeal a JC decision to the full School Meeting in which everyone, rather than just the three JC members, has a vote. Even though JC members are selected so that they shouldn’t have any conflict of interest or appearance of partiality (e.g., a JC member cannot have written the complaint), we know that in a smaller school, the person receiving the consequence may feel the process was unfair and in such a case we provide the appeal process. In addition, anyone can appeal the verdict. In this case, a staff member and older student appealed, as they felt this case set an incorrect precedent for the school.
 
The School Meeting was fully attended, and the motion was made (and seconded) to overturn the JC decision that a rule had been broken. The debate was almost as intense as the first one, and additional nuances were brought forward to bolster each side’s position. A majority of the School Meeting participants voted for the motion that overturned the previous JC decision. I felt the sting of defeat for my position and still believe that greater weight should have been given to Amy’s request that Eric stop his actions even when they were permitted by the server. However, the counterargument that Amy needed to take responsibility for playing on that particular server and knowing the rules was persuasive to the majority. Given that students have the freedom to choose what they do during the day at our school, they also have the responsibility to be aware of the consequences of those decisions.

Ultimately, I think Amy felt her concerns were heard and taken very seriously. I think our school’s culture was strengthened by this case in which staff and students were on both sides of the debate. JC is where our culture of freedom and responsibility develops over time as everyone engages in the often difficult decisions of how to balance competing rights and how we define them. At our school, we feel this process is the best way to ensure that everyone is fully respected and heard. I personally hope we revisit this issue in the future since I’m still not convinced we made the best choice. However, I really value that each member of the school has a single vote and that no member of the school community (even staff) can arbitrarily decide that his or her viewpoint outweighs the collective democratic decision making that is an integral part of our school. Democracy is messy, but it still feels like the best way to arrive at decisions.

Tom Bohman

Teachers are like gardeners

Sir Ken Robinson is a hero to many of us in the alternative education community. His talk at the 2006 TED conference on how the standard school system undermines creativity has been viewed more than 8 million times, more than any other video on the popular TED site. His funny and inspiring 2010 follow-up TED talk, calling for a revolution to replace the industrial model of education with an agricultural one, has been emailed and shared on Facebook countless times and shows up on lists of recommended links nearly everywhere I look as I research child-centered schooling. It's hard not to love this guy.

I recently came across a brief video clip of a Sir Ken presentation in Florida that was new to me. In it he makes an analogy that builds upon his proposed agricultural paradigm: teachers as gardeners. It struck me as wonderful and apt not just because I'm a gardener myself (as are many of the teachers and students at schools featured on this site) but also because it shows so much respect for the inherent life in our children. Take a look and listen for a couple of minutes:

Another thing I like about this analogy is that it supports my own strong belief that there are many “correct” ways to educate children (or to pave the way for children to educate themselves). Just as gardeners can get superb, fully realized tomatoes through various methods (staked or unstaked, in containers or double-dug square-foot plots or raised beds—even hanging upside-down), you can see superb, fully realized human beings emerging from schools that employ various methods and models, so long as they nurture the distinct creative life of each child.

If you want to meet some terrific gardeners—both literal and metaphorical—visit the independent schools profiled in the Alt Ed Austin School Directory. You just might find a place where your kid will put down roots, blossom, and flourish.

Being the change

For her contribution to our series of guest posts, I asked Christine Watson, who owns, directs, and teaches at Be the Change Academy in Round Rock, to share the story behind her school's intriguing name.

Be the change you wish
to see in the world.

 —attributed to Mohandas Gandhi

This quote has always been a favorite of mine because of its inspirational and empowering message. It has fostered my belief that if I want to see something happen in this world, I need to start with myself.

As a public school teacher and administrator, I wanted to do more and make real changes to benefit all students. Unfortunately, the culture and bureaucracy surrounding public education hindered my transformative ambitions. I became frustrated with the limitations of public schools.

While attending a workshop on business and communication, I was assigned the task of creating an advertisement for something. I began writing an ad for my imaginary, ideal school, and the name “Be the Change Academy” echoed in my mind. A young man also attending the workshop loved the name I chose for my school. He informed me that he and his wife homeschooled their children and strongly supported alternative education. This gave me the encouragement and inspiration I needed to begin my journey to open a school that would truly reflect my core beliefs about children and the learning process.

Here at Be the Change Academy we understand that every individual has an inner genius and the potential to fulfill his or her personal mission. By starting to uncover that genius at an early age, students can be inspired to develop their personal talents, increase and deepen their knowledge, and cultivate leadership skills to truly make a difference in their own communities and in the world. We help to bring out that genius and nurture it through play, creativity, movement, and study.

I strive to live my life in accordance with Gandhi’s message. Founding the academy is my effort to “be the change I wish to see” in the way children are educated today and in the future. I am truly full of joy to have this opportunity to forge a new path in education that may enhance the lives of many others.

Christine Watson

Expert kids

What happens when you allow kids to follow their own passions at school, to delve deeply into matters that truly fascinate them? They become experts, in the best sense of the word. And they love to share their expertise.

Punk fashion comes alive through independent study

I met a bunch of young experts at the Inside Outside School’s Expo Day last month. Their areas of expertise were richly varied, ranging from the physics of electricity to the diversity of aquatic mammals, from the history of the Texas Rangers to the development of punk fashion, from the culture of Jordan to the uses of herbal remedies. The media they used to present their discoveries were equally varied, including music, a diorama, a Q&A session, a PowerPoint presentation, written reports, edible offerings, a map, a blog, and an original art portfolio.

Each student had been encouraged to choose a subject for independent study and had spent much of the semester immersed in it. I do not mean “choose” as it is euphemistically used in so many classrooms to mean, for example, “Pick a country in Europe and write a report about it.” I mean that at the beginning of the semester teacher/directors Deborah Hale and Kathy Cauley spent a great deal of time with individual students exploring their interests, ideas, dreams, talents, and goals, with their ears tuned to the limitless possibilities; then they helped them find a focus on what they were most excited to learn and how they wanted to go about doing it.

Throughout the semester Kathy and Deborah frequently checked in with students about their independent projects, offering guidance, support, provocative questions, and resource suggestions as needed. Students found ways to help each other get “unstuck” or re-inspired. Some found they needed a new angle after a few weeks of research. Some decided to do two or more projects rather than one. Others struggled to decide the best way(s) for presenting their discoveries, despite the school’s overall emphasis on process over product. In the end, they all seemed, to me and to other Expo Day visitors I interviewed, to be confident in their knowledge, eager to share it, and hungry for more.

Herbal remedies studied and shared at the IOS Expo Day

The Expo brought back memories of my fifth grade CLUE class, by far the best educational experience of my kindergarten through high school years. CLUE (short for Creative Learning in a Unique Environment) was an innovative program in the Memphis public schools that emphasized critical thinking skills, creativity, collaborative problem solving, interdisciplinary study, and independent projects. There, for a few hours each week, we escaped the confines of our regular classroom desks and were set free to pursue things we cared about. One CLUE kid I know spent most of her school year writing and illustrating a novel; another became uber-skilled in origami; another plotted the course of a certain star. For my independent project I chose to study the creation of the Panama Canal (it had captured my imagination the previous summer during a family trip to visit relatives in Panama). To this day, I feel a strong connection to this subject and remember it in more detail than anything I ever studied for a test—because it was mine.

A quick online search tells me that the CLUE program is still going strong in Memphis, although, naturally, it has evolved. Unfortunately, it is still restricted to a small percentage of the public school system’s students. I’ve always thought that kind of learning experience should be available to every child, everywhere. It is heartening to know that kids at the Inside Outside School (as well as some other alternative schools in the Austin area) get the encouragement, resources, and time to cultivate their curiosity, practice their passions, and share their expertise.

Small is beautiful

There is no right school size for everyone. Some children thrive in large groups with many diverse social opportunities such as those found in most public schools and typical private schools. But many children (and adults, for that matter) feel overwhelmed by crowds and find that they don’t function at their best when surrounded by too many people. They blossom in small groups and when nurtured with individual mentoring. That’s one reason Alt Ed Austin’s Alternative School Directory is focused on small programs. (You can find somewhat larger progressive schools in our carefully curated Other Recommended Schools directory.)

My son’s school during his upper elementary and early middle school years was what some in the education world refer to as a “microschool” and others like to call “small but mighty.”  It had about a dozen students and one main teacher (though students also learned from parent volunteers, neighbors, and guest speakers, as well as from artists, artisans, and other community experts the students visited in their workplaces). Now a teenager, my son is one of about 60 students enrolled in high school and middle school classes at another innovative school in Austin. These are just two of many intentionally small schools featured on this site, and the demand for this kind of intimate learning environment is growing. To be sure, some of the smallest schools in the directory are simply new; they plan to grow in student enrollment, staff size, and facilities—but not to exceed the size of a well-functioning community.

What is the upper limit of such a community? That’s a matter of opinion, and education researchers continue to debate the issue and to study the effects of “small learning communities” or “schools within schools” established in the last two decades in Boston, New York, and other large cities—even right here as part of AISD’s High School Redesign. The main idea behind the Human Scale Education Movement is that smaller classes and school communities lead to closer relationships between teachers and students and among fellow students, which in turn lead to higher levels of academic engagement, fewer dropouts, better test scores, higher rates of college admissions, etc. These programs generally try to cap learning communities at around 300 (so, for example, an urban high school of 1,200 students might encompass 4 separate or semiseparate learning communities that stick together with the same teachers and advisers for several years).

These smaller learning communities within large urban public schools are a good step in the right direction, but 300 is still too many for some kids, perhaps most. For my purposes at Alt Ed Austin, I’ve chosen to embrace Dunbar’s Number, a theoretical cognitive limit to the number of people with whom a human being can maintain stable relationships, which works out to approximately 150. First proposed by the British anthropologist Robin Dunbar and popularized by Malcolm Gladwell in The Tipping Point, Dunbar’s Number has come to be seen as a useful guideline in organizing groups in business, industry, law enforcement, some European government agencies, and even online social networks. Why not education?

Here’s a brief video primer on Dunbar’s Number, by Robin Dunbar himself:

Complete video at: http://fora.tv/2010/02/18/Robin_Dunbar_How_Many_Friends_Does_One_Person_Need Evolutionary anthropologist Robin Dunbar expands on "Dunbar's number," his theory that the maximum number of stable relationships a person can maintain is approximately 150. Time to delete a few hundred Facebook friends?

What’s your upper size limit for a school or other created community? Do you have a lower limit? Does it depend on the age of the students or other factors? Does size matter?

[2018 update: My son, mentioned above, is now in college, studying at a terrific small liberal arts college.]

Teri