Friday, September 24, 2010

Module 2: How do I love thee?

http://karenswhimsy.com/public-domain-images/romeo-and-juliet/images/romeo-and-juliet-7.jpg
This well-known picture depicting the final scene of Romeo and Juliet is a prime example of what irony looks like in its dramatic form.  The outcome the audience hoped for (their “happy-ever-after” ending) ends up in the unexpected result of both of their deaths. 

From this same picture, we can also see what irony feels like. We instantly feel “torn” or “ripped” from the expected into the unexpected, leaving us sometimes feeling confused, disappointed, or even angry at the outcome. 

In its verbal form, irony can sometimes sound a bit sarcastic or even hurtful. An example would be if we say to someone whom we know is unpleasant looking “If you get any prettier, I’m going to have to cover my eyes.”

We can also hear the frustration in verbal irony. For example, when the student says, “I was sick my entire summer vacation; it was so much fun!” or when we use that famous cliché “It’s as clear as mud,” when we really don’t understand something.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/1003/playloud/photo107_1.jpg
Alanis Morissette’s song, “Ironic”, mainly depicts irony in terms of opposites—opposites that once again leave us with feelings of frustration. Maybe we can even feel the cold metal and hear the sounds of silver clanking together as we search for just one knife among ten thousand spoons only to find . . . more spoons!


Or maybe irony leaves us in complete silence when we consider historical examples such as the cause of death for engineer and chemist,Thomas Midgley, Jr., who according to Wikipedia, “contracted polio at age 51, leaving him severely disabled. He devised an elaborate system of strings and pulleys to help others lift him from bed. This system was the eventual cause of his death when he was accidentally entangled in the ropes of this device and died of strangulation at the age of 55.”

Irony can leave us feeling undone from the moment it begins and many times it takes with it everything that precedes it leaving a feeling of emptiness—such as how I felt the first time I saw the above scene from Romeo and Juliet.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Module 2: What's the big idea?

According to Sparks, observing goes well beyond the ability to see something; it is defined more in terms of looking intently at an object or issue, not limited to just using our visual perception, but observing with all our senses. Then, once our senses have been aroused, we can begin to engage our thoughts about the object or issue in a way that would have been missed had we merely given it a quick glance. Imaging is what begins to happen after we have honed our ability to truly observe. Sparks says it this way, “What we can observe, we can imagine; what we can imagine, we image” (p. 57). Imaging also includes all of our senses as observation does and requires practice on our part. The difference, however, is that observing is where we gather information about a given thing or idea, imaging is what we put out after our observations have been made; imaging leads us to create.

The best examples of these two thinking skills comes from watching both of my daughters (ages 7 and 3) and the way they interact with different objects. My seven year old is always observing—she will smell it, touch it, listen to it, and examine it with her eyes to see how it works. She is keen on knowing details, whether it is an object, a story, or even a private conversation. Furthermore, both of my daughters exhibit strength in imaging. They have created lead ropes for their toy horses out of old (and some new) purse straps. For them, boxes become stables, couch pillows become bridges, grapes and pretzels become dumbbells, and the list goes on.

As I was wondering when this ability to observe and create (or image) began to be stunted, I found myself telling my oldest daughter—who had just asked if she could look at a home accent piece we had just purchased and then proceeded to pick it up and touch it—that “looking” was with her eyes only. It was me who actually learned the lesson here (especially after I had just finished reading chapters 3 and 4). So, for my own personal benefit—and for the benefit of my children—I have found that my creativity is strengthened each time I allow myself to observe things by more than just “looking”; this was reinforced by this module’s “Zoom In” project. I picked up several items (everything from a toothbrush holder to a tool used to attach screen to doors and windows) examining them with all my senses, trying desperately to come up with creative new uses for each one of them. This assignment helped me understand what it takes to “train” my observational skills as addressed in Sparks, and to not miss “seeing” something because of my preconceived ideas of what it should look like.

Following Vermeij’s example of being forced to use his sense of touch to observe shells because of blindness, I think many times it takes forcing ourselves to regularly use the senses we are used to ignoring until those senses become a natural part of our observation skills. This works for education as well. We should incorporate each of these senses into teaching in order to train (or force) students to be more creative observers, especially since this is a key first step for students to use their own creativity to create images and to ultimately invent. These two thinking skills can be used to creatively teach students to understand different elements of figurative language by showing them different pictures, videos, songs, objects, etc. and asking them to observe their findings. For example, students can understand personification better by observing differing objects and discovering how those objects display human characteristics. Does the grass appear to be bowing to the wind? Does the bruised apple seem to have a tragic story to tell? Does the tape seem to hiss every time its sticky tongue is pulled? After observing, students can then display their creativity by taking a common object and making it look like it has some type of human quality. Students could take the idea of the tape’s sticky tongue even further to create a picture of personification:

“The ravenous tape was looking for anything to ingest when it happened upon its unsuspecting prey.”

http://htmlimg2.scribdassets.com/9ds6las4xs1tixc/images/15-6f68256054/000.jpg

Friday, September 17, 2010

Module 2: Zoom In (Dinglehopper or Fork Photography Activity)




A broom can be used for sweeping.
It comes in handy when doing chin-ups for exercise.
A broom makes a very good fan for Queen Mommy.
It can also be used for holding a picket sign.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Content Area Topic

I decided to go with “figurative language” for a few different reasons. First, it’s a topic that I love, second, it gives me multiple areas to explore (such as allegory and irony) and third, I have seen firsthand how exploring and understanding figurative language has expanded my students’ abilities to be able to think creatively. Figurative language gives students different ways to express themselves beyond the literal, factual meaning of text—which brings a bit of life and poetic flavor to how they read, write and think.

Module 1: What's the big idea?

The first three chapters of, Sparks of Genius, were important to me personally, in that they began with challenging me to think outside the box or, in other words, to take off my peripheral blinders in order to think holistically about the subject of creativity. One of the ideas in Root-Bernstien’s book explores that artists’ creativity should come from more than just their ability to see things in a way that others may not, but that it should come from an ability to use all of their senses in conjunction with one another for true originality of their ideas to be displayed. A truly creative artist or writer longs to capture their audience through more than just visual or auditory stimulation, they desire to create for them a genuine emotional experience. This is where creativity gets complex; it is no longer just about using the right words or colors, it’s about understanding the reality and emotions behind the right words or color expressions.

For the most part, I think the above definition for creativity, when attached to the arts, is more widely accepted and understood. It is within the Sciences that we start to lose this concept; the focus—at least in the way many do education—is more in the head than in the heart. We teach students to “think” like scientists or mathematicians, but we teach them to “feel” when it comes to the arts. I was intrigued by Henri Poincare’s quote when he said “There is one thing that strikes me, and that is, how far young people who have received a secondary education are from applying the mechanical laws they have been taught to the real world . . . . For them the world of science and that of reality are shut off in water-tight compartments” (Root- Bernstein, 17). Since I am not currently in the classroom (but I can certainly look back to the five years I taught and see the truth of Poincare’s quote), I thought of this concept and how it relates to my own daughters and their love for horses. They like reading horse stories, watching horse movies, pretending to be horses and playing with their horse toys. But their love for horses does not stop in this make believe world; they also like to read about the different kinds of horses and how to take care of them. They are learning “text book” information about riding and caring for horses—but even this, I have found, is not where their greatest knowledge and understanding of horses has come from. Their understanding has grown most through their personal experiences in the realistic world— actually spending time around horses, learning how to feed them, ride them, clean and care for them. Not only has real, personal experience promoted understanding of “book” knowledge, but it has overall, made them more passionate about horses and “reality” has made their “play” time even more creative. I can certainly see how this would be true for the artist and the scientist.

I love the idea of integrating subjects in education. Why let the mathematician always know when the shift into Language Arts hits them, or why let the artist always know when Science is being discussed? The Véjà Du assignment showed how even the mundane can appear new and intriguing, and before we know it (or before our students know it) we find ourselves looking a little closer at something that previously would never have caught our eye. If someone would have shown me a picture of an umbrella and told me to study it closely, I would not have been as eager to begin as I was doing it the other way around where I looked at pictures and discovered it was a umbrella. Couldn’t this work with our students as well? We do not have to tell them up front they are doing math, or language, or science. We could just give them interesting pieces and parts of it—enough to capture their interest without turning a deaf ear. . . especially since we do not really know if the one who appears to excel in science will go on to be a scientist or a famous artist.

Friday, September 3, 2010