Education

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As a writer, I think it helps to have been to the places you write about. I wrote about the Grand Canyon and New York City in my series. I’d been to both places. Research is a big part of any book. The more you do, the more it helps the book come alive.

Add in history and you’ve got your work cut out for you. As you know, if you follow my blog, I’m reading the Outlander series. The author had to do a massive amount of research. She started with Scotland and the Highlander uprising and ended in North America pre-Revolutionary War. And that’s only in the four books I’ve read. I’m sure there’s more to come.

Since I like to read historical fiction and am considering writing one myself, I just had to invite my author friend, Mysti Parker, to guest blog today. She has recently released a historical romance novel. She has visited the places she wrote about and it’s an interesting journey. Love the cover, Mysti!

Travelling for Research

By Mysti Parker

I’ve never been what you’d call a history buff, but I had to become one when I wrote A Time for Everything. The idea came to me in 2010, and I began a very rough draft. I decided that I really should see these places where the story was to take place. That’s what researchers do, right? We took a trip to middle Tennessee, just the husband and I (always nice to be alone) and spent a weekend touring Franklin, Nashville, Brentwood, and Lebanon. These four towns all played parts in the story. But what I found in them truly fueled the fire of the book’s plot.

Middle Tennessee, like much of Kentucky where I live, is a beautiful symphony of rolling hills, green meadows, small farms and cozy communities nestled in quiet valleys. But during the Civil War, this area was anything but idyllic. Take Franklin, for instance. One of the bloodiest battles of the war swept through the town on November 30, 1864, leaving behind a trail of bullet-riddled soldiers, houses, and even civilian casualties.

Today, this horrific period in history is commemorated with historical sites that offer tours. We visited many of these, including the Lotz House, where German immigrant and master woodworker Johann Lotz and family had to evacuate before the battle reached their home. They sought shelter along with a couple dozen neighbors in basement of the Carter house across the street. In this beautiful historic home turned museum, you can still see the bullet holes in the original woodwork.

Just a short drive out of town is Carnton Plantation, where the McGavock family’s home became a field hospital. If you ever get a chance to visit, make sure to take the tour. It’s a fascinating and enlightening story of just how bad things could be when a battle is literally raging at your doorstep. In the home, you can still see the blood stains on the wooden floors upstairs. Here, you’ll see the window where a field surgeon tossed out amputated limbs. Arms, legs, hands, and feet of these unfortunate men supposedly formed a pile as high as the smokehouse.

The story of Carrie McGavock, however, was the most compelling. Once the war was over, and bodies buried hastily in shallow graves across the countryside, she decided to dedicate a parcel of their land as a Confederate cemetery. She began the arduous task of identifying these men when possible, and relocating their bodies to a proper, marked resting place. Her story inspired Robert Hicks to write Widow of the South, which I bought in the Carnton Plantation gift shop.

That book, along with several others like the real-life diary of a Confederate widow, A Woman’s Civil War by Cornelia Peake McDonald, helped me fill in the gaps of Portia’s story. Accounts of the Tennessee men who fought for both sides, and walking the ground they lived and died upon, helped bring Beau to life.

I think I could have written A Time for Everything without ever having stepped foot into Tennessee, but it wouldn’t have been the same book. Without touring the places firsthand and hearing such memorable and personal accounts, I don’t believe the story would have felt real enough. But I’ll let you readers decide that for yourself.

Profile Pic 2015 150x226  Buy her book here.           A Time for Everything  

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I’m glad I don’t teach anymore. Don’t get me wrong. I loved it. I miss the kids. I miss creating a great lesson. I miss the light bulb moments. The reason I don’t want to be in the classroom now can be summed up in three words—common core math.

I just watched an inspiring video on Common Core Math. A mother in a certain school district gave a well-thought out presentation to a group of officials as to why parents hate it. I gave her a standing ovation when it was over. She gave an example of a math word problem to the panel. One of the women answered the question after figuring it out in her head. The mom told her it would take numerous steps on paper to show the answer, many more than necessary. And that’s what children are asked to do, show those steps, instead of being praised for figuring it out in their head.

Math and memorization have gone out the window. No more training the brain to be a calculator. I’m glad I learned arithmetic the old-fashioned way. I even know how to count change back to a customer, not that it’s a needed talent anymore. The cash register does everything for the employee these days. But still, shouldn’t we all know how to do that? Math skills should be stored in the brain, not as a ten step process on two sheets of paper.

I have read up on Common Core Math. Not to bore you, or myself, here are some main ideas of what I found. There are no shortcuts. The math is conceptual, not procedural. When you get the answer, you have to be able to write out how you got there. And from what I can conclude, solving math problems are based on rounding place values to tens (or hundreds).

Not to criticize or critique, but I would like to emphasis not all children learn the same way. I had buckets of hundreds blocks, tens sticks, and ones cubes for hands-on sessions. After one particular good lesson, or so I thought, a child raised his hand. “I don’t get it,” he said. My first reaction was to think, “What? After that great lesson?” But I proceeded to take him to the chalkboard and demonstrate the same problem on the board. “Oh,” he said, “now I see.”

I am not an expert when it comes to this new math. All I can say is that I think it looks very confusing. We can all add 26+17 in our head. Got the answer already? Right, 43. That’s considered the wrong way.

This is the common core math way:

Break apart the numbers to make a ten.

Use a number that adds with the 6 in 26 to make a ten.

Since 6+4=10, use 4.

Think: 17-4=13

Add 26+4=30

13+30=43

There’s your answer!

I admit I found this popular example on-line and didn’t try to solve a problem myself. After reading through that given model, I didn’t want to. And I don’t have to.

But kids do. Every day at school.

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Tests have become the measuring stick of a student’s educational life. They were supposed to show what the child knew and what topics needed more instruction. When did the test overtake teaching, and why are we letting that happen?

Before all this mandatory testing, my students were great learners. As they took more and more tests, I felt like the creativity was being sapped from them. I noticed it when they were given a writing prompt. If they were stuck, I’d tell them to make something up and assured them it was okay to use their imaginations. After getting the “deer in the headlights” look from their little faces, that’s when I realized what was happening.

We were teaching children to answer questions on a test, not to be creative thinkers. I never taught questions. I taught concepts. I felt like concepts were more useful in life and that knowing them was a much better skill.

My grade-level colleagues got together and decided to do something about it. We tore through the results of an old test and came up with three areas to concentrate on: writing, science, and social studies/citizenship.  We chose our area of expertise based on which class did the best in that area on the test. A block of time was carved out in our schedules and divided into half-hour segments. We would develop a lesson and teach it to all three classes. That way, each teacher had more time to focus on concepts and create interesting ways to present them.

I didn’t have to plan science lessons or find materials for experiments, but they were being taught to my class. I still taught writing skills, but the major objectives, like writing a summary or a form letter, were being presented by another teacher. The end result of our plan was constant high scores in those areas. We were still accountable for reading and math in our own classroom, but we shared ideas.

Teamwork, discussions, and oral reports were used as regular evaluations besides written tests. Children were given a leaf guide in science and asked to find as many leaves as they could outside of class. Classifying and comparing, writing about their findings, and reporting to the class made for a much better way of learning. Sending letters to a favorite person, such as a local celebrity, made the writing process real. Dividing the class into four wards of a city and having students campaign and run for council positions brought the governmental process to life. Each teacher found ways for children to learn concepts without paper-and-pencil quizzes and questions.

Recently, I was invited to a high school speech class as a guest speaker. I was a little early, and the teacher was finishing up her English class. They were taking a test. At the end of the period, she started collecting the tests, reminding the students that it was a big part of their grade. She said the tests would be sent to the board office and graded there. That sounded pretty scary to me. One giant test they worked on for a few periods would be most of their grade.

The pendulum has swung too far in one direction. The system isn’t giving students a fair, balanced education. Until there is one, what can be done? Encourage students to follow their endeavors outside the classroom — keep notebooks full of poems and sketch pads of art. Attend community artistic events and talk with people in those professions. Take classes outside of school. Do research on the Internet. Do anything to keep the creative side of the brain working overtime. Don’t let the tests get you down.

This was originally posted on Class Craft’s Tumblr blog which can be found here:

http://classcraftgame.tumblr.com/post/85933447003/teaching-students-to-be-thinkers-not-test-takers

I thank them for the opportunity.

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I love Fleetwood Mac and their song, Go Your Own Way, is a great anthem. I’ve had a lot of people ask me how I keep my characters and stories organized. When I tell them, “In my head”, I get a strange look.

Some authors make outlines for their stories; others have charts and intricate computer programs. Others have it all in their head. I told this person they had to do what works for them. We’re all different in the learning department.

Everyone learns differently. When I taught I made sure to use as many ways as possible to educate my students. They’re called Learning Styles. Not everyone is auditory–as in the talking, listening student. Some are visual, having to see it to believe it. Others are kinesthetic and need a hands-on approach. Then there are the tactual learners who need to feel things. Many people are a combination of styles.

I had a flannel board and colored chalk, magnets of numbers and shapes in my classroom besides the computers. I guess those things would be considered outdated now with fancy whiteboards and updated computers. I had one student tell me recently he learned subtraction because of my flannel board. He learned in his own way.

What works for you, may not work for someone else. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re doing something wrong or need an outline or notebooks filled with information to do what you want. Learn your own way. Write your own way. Go your own way. Do what works for you.

 

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book-67049_1280People are still reading. People are using the library. So many things are going out of style or out of date. Kids hardly watch television and find their shows on-line. They watch at their convenience. Newspapers are scaling back because sales are dipping. Only old people read it…or so I’ve been told. The younger generation gets everything on-line.

So I was very happy to see the library hasn’t turned into a dinosaur yet. I know they have computers and try to stay up-to-date but let’s admit it, it’s a place filled with books. Books! Not much else.

Don’t you love the feeling of stepping into a library? I always considered it a magical place. You go in with high hopes and come out with unknown treasures. If you don’t like one of the gems you picked, you can close it and move on to the next hoping to find the adventure of a lifetime. Nowhere else in the world can you go and get that same experience without spending a dime.

Let’s keep the younger generation reading…for fun. Not because they have to for a school assignment but because they want to. I know there are young readers out there because they blog about books. Young adult is a popular genre in reading.

Life’s at warp speed these days but I have faith in our younger generation. I think they’ll continue the tradition of reading books and supporting their libraries. Libraries may have to continue to change to keep up, adding more high tech advances inside their walls.

Maybe one day a person will scan the walls searching for the perfect book and just hold up their phone to download it. I know virtual libraries already exist and you don’t have to go to the actual place. I use one to check out books at times. But let’s admit it, there’s nothing like walking into the real thing, being greeted by the scent of a good book. Let’s hope it never goes the way of the dinosaur.

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Even though I’m not returning, as a student or a teacher, a flood of emotions still overcomes me. Readying a classroom or getting new school clothes and supplies represented a fresh start, a new outlook.

A lot of young adult books take place in school. I wanted to break free of that in Waiting for Dusk but found I had to have some scenes take place there. Makes sense because of the age of the characters, but it’s also a place everyone’s been and can identify with—good or bad.

I had parents tell me they were nervous to come back to school even as adults and some would comment it still smells like school. Funny, I always thought that, too. School has a scent! Can’t describe it, but it does.

If I go way back, my fondest memory takes place in the school yard. While waiting for the bell to ring, I would trade baseball cards with the boys. Yep, back then, it was pretty much a boy’s club.

I loved baseball for as long as I can remember. My mom told me when I was just three or four, I’d ask her to throw the ball with me. I would tell her “You be Larry Doby, Mommy.”, my favorite player on the Cleveland Indians…may be dating myself a bit!

When I was older, I started buying my own baseball cards—wish I still had them.  Roger Maris, Rocky Colavito, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle to name just a few.

I was smart out in the old schoolyard. Trades were made fast and furious and someone would try to get the best of me. My first rule was to trade my doubles, then get a 2-for-1. Lessons were learned out there just as much as inside those school walls where we stood to make our deals.

I could go on and on about favorite teachers and what inspired me to choose that profession. I’ll save that for another time. This time of year is about nostalgia, a quick trip down memory lane. I hope you have a story tucked away in yours, maybe one that has nothing to do with “reading and ‘riting and ‘rithmetic”, but one that taught you a great lesson. One you’ve taken on your journey through life and remember fondly. Maybe it even happened back in the old schoolyard.

Remember the days of the old school yard

We used to laugh a lot.

Oh, don’t you remember the days of the old school yard.

-Cat Stevens

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They start off in caterpillar form and are juicy dinner for birds, lizards and even small mammals. It’s amazing they make it to the next stage, forming a cocoon. They’re in that stage for about two weeks but have the ability to stay that way throughout the winter. The butterfly emerges as an entirely different creature than its caterpillar form.

When I taught third grade, we learned about the four stages of a butterfly as part of the science curriculum. My colleague and I worked as a team so we came up with the not-so-creative idea of folding a white sheet of paper into four parts and have the children label and draw in each square. Those would proudly be displayed on the wall outside our classrooms.

One day after school, she was hanging those designs titled Four Stages of a Butterfly so they would be ready for Open House the next night. I admired the works of art as I went along the hallway. Imagine my surprise when I came across one that said Four Stages of a Buttfly. We had a good laugh and she thanked me profusely for catching the mistake.

Butterflies have always been a part of my life, whether chasing them as a child or teaching about them at school. It’s not surprising they are now important in another way. I like to include them in my books because they’ve taken on a whole new meaning.

A Monarch visits almost every August on my birthday. I’ve come to believe it’s my dad stopping by with good wishes. A few times it didn’t come and that’s okay. It’s all in my mind anyway, right? How could something like that be true?

One year, after my birthday and no sighting, imagine my surprise when one flew right at my car’s windshield so I couldn’t miss seeing it. It was as if Dad was saying, “See, I didn’t forget.”

As a writer, I like to tuck things away in my books that others may discover and wonder if there’s a little significance to their find. Butterflies are one of those wonders. And now you know why.

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dentist-158225_1280There’s a character in my book that needs to get put in his place. He’s handsome, popular and good at sports…feels entitled. You know the type. Something needs to be done to put him in his place. I’ll have to talk to the author.

I have my fair share of “getting put in your place” stories but I think you’ll enjoy the one I’m about to share, especially with “Back to School” right around the corner. It happened in my second grade classroom.

Being a young teacher, I was full of ideas. I liked to think I had the best lessons planned for the day and the children would always be captivated. It’s exciting when you see many hands in the air, asking questions and participating.

After one great lesson, in my opinion, a few hands shot in the air. I called on some of the children but noticed one in particular. The dark-haired little girl’s hand wiggled wildly and her eyes sparkled with excitement. I told myself that she really got something out of the lesson and couldn’t wait to hear her question.

When I called on her imagine my surprise when she asked, “Are those teeth?” She pointed to the long necklace dangling from my neck. In my defense, wearing a long string of beads was popular back then. They were a pale yellow of smooth, unusual shapes.

I looked down at the necklace and back up at her. Was she fixated on those the entire time? Did she hear any of the great lesson I just taught?

Oh. My. Gosh. I was just put in my place. And I had to laugh. We all began to laugh that day because it was funny. Did she get anything out of the lesson? Probably not.  Maybe getting put in your place once in awhile causes one to do a maintenance check. It was a great reminder. Sometimes we need to be put in our place.

I never wore those beads to school again. Every time I opened the drawer where I placed them, they seemed to be smiling up at me, winking as a reminder.

So what did I learn that day at school?

The first was a life lesson. Don’t ever get too full of yourself.

The second was a school lesson. Don’t ever think a lesson was absorbed into children’s minds in just one great lesson. It might take a lot of smaller, review sessions to  break through or finally sink in.

And last but not least the third and final lesson. Don’t take life too seriously because you may just miss the humor of it.

I learned a lot that day. Sometimes it’s okay to be put in your place. Plus it’s never too late to learn a valuable lesson, no matter how old you are.

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Who ever thought teachers would become the first line of defense? I turned and asked my husband that question as we watched the disturbing news of Sandy Hook Elementary. Teachers and children shot and killed. That never crossed my mind when I dreamed of being a teacher.

I hate to use the cliche “Back in the good old days”, but it comes to mind when I think about my first two decades of teaching. The uppermost things on my mind were to write good lesson plans, attend teachers’ meetings and engage children in the learning process to the best of my ability. The doors were open and everyone was welcomed.

That changed after the Columbine shootings in 1999. Suddenly we were all looking over our shoulders. Discussions were held on how and when to lock the outside doors and who to let in the building. The signal Code Blue was established and teachers knew that meant an intruder was in the building. Children were taught to get down and hide behind their desks. Was there really a good way to solve this problem?

When I first walked into my school building, it was the height of  “Open Classrooms” in the late 70’s. For those of you unfamiliar with that term, it was a new style of teaching. Children would move from teacher to teacher in an open, large area and learn at their own rate.

A new wing was built with no walls at my school for that very purpose. Four classrooms were on each side. In a few years, teachers found the noise level too loud and the concept not working so half walls were built to separate the rooms. I eventually ended up in that wing teaching third and then second grade.

As the years went on, a partition was added onto those walls and finally the shared sinks were taken out and the classrooms became totally contained. We still had no doors but everyone was pleased with the results. The shootings were the catalyst to get doors with locks on every classroom. We had now gone from totally open to locked in.

The recent tornado in Moore, Oklahoma is another example of the selflessness of teachers. They used their own bodies to protect their students without giving a second thought. I never came close to a tornado threat like that but we did practice drills.

I remember standing in the kitchen preparation room—because it had no windows—with two other classes. Seventy-five students and three teachers all crammed into a relatively small space. I smiled calmly at the children, shushing them when they became a little rambunctious and reminding them not to touch anything, cringing inside as I eyed all the pots and pans on the shelves above us. In my mind, all I could think about is how would we all survive in there? I mapped out a plan and hoped I never had to use it. The best I could come up with is for all the children to get down and I would somehow cover them up. My heart was with all those teachers the day I heard of the tornado in OK. They didn’t think twice, I’m sure.

Another school year is coming to a close. Teachers are closing up their classrooms and getting ready for summer break. Do they deserve that break? Some think not. Some say they are paid too much for the hours they work and all the vacations they receive. I don’t want to ramble on what teachers pay for out-of-pocket or how many other things they do besides teach. But let me ask you, how can you teach on days when a storm rolls in and a dark cloud hangs over the school and you look into the wide eyes of the children in front of you? You tell them everything will be okay because you’ll take care of them and they believe you. Or what would you do when the lights go out? Sirens wail and no one knows why? Do people really think teachers just keep teaching, ignoring weather, strange sounds, crying or any other disturbance in their day? No, they stop and deal with it. Sometimes they get it right, other times they don’t. They’re only human like the rest of us.

Now retired, I’m still a champion for my colleagues. This weekend I read a headline in our city’s newspaper saying, Drop high-stakes tests and let teachers teach. I like that idea. That’s what we signed up for, to teach. We knew going in it wasn’t going to be easy. A person does not walk into a classroom, teach for six or seven hours, pack up and go home. So much more goes on than that. Light bulb moments, wide smiles after success, wondrous eyes during exploration, and satisfied faces can fill one’s day. Not all are golden moments but we’re there for it all, the long haul, no matter where the day takes us.

So today, take a minute to pause and reflect on all the things teachers do and maybe thank…no make that salute…a teacher.

Teacher

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