I don’t think I am a successful blogger. I am a skilledish writer, but I’m not anywhere near where I want to be in terms of the development of my skills as a writer. My pieces start out choppy (and sometimes end that way I’m sure). It takes me many proof reads to clearly articulate what I want to say.
I am very good at designing the page and creating a feel. I love using multiple forms of media to create my page space. I use photos and music a lot. It fun to think of your blog as an experience more so than just writing.
I do not participate with the wider blogging community at all. Im pretty stagnant in that regard. I don’t think I have any followers and I don’t really read other peoples blogs. I would really like to get better as creating something that is informative and that people want to read. That take a lot of work though, and I don’t know if it will ever become a priority enough for me to take action.
I have loved the blogging process, and am very happy to have been introduced to it in EDU 307. I think the most important thing I need to improve on is my WordPress literacy. I don’t know much about the site, and probably use about .05% of what it its capable of doing. I hope to one day learn more, and continue learning as I write because I feel like if I get a hold of the other 95% I can create some impactful work.
When I think about how the sky informs my world, I think about science. The sky and outer space is endless, and I think that has some impact on how I view the world. If something like the sky is possible, and for they’re to be clouds that are constantly fluidly moving, much of anything is possible.
People have always looked to the sky for answers. Its a place you can go to feel small. Sometimes feeling small in this world feels good. It gives you perspective. Daily life becomes very much so about me, me, me. When in reality, we are all very very small, and less important than we think we are.
Much of the stress I encounter in my life is self inflicted. Due to feeling too important. The sky, especially at night when you can see our galaxy, helps to eliminate that briefly.
On May 25, 2020, George Floyd was murdered by Derek Chauvin. Murder in the coldest of blood. 8 excruciatingly long minutes is how long it took for the worst mistake of Derek’s life to be over with.
The devil hung on every second. George gasped for air as if the atmosphere was leaving earth. I could see the helplessness in his eyes. The look a fish has when it’s out of water. I could hear the rasp in his voice as he begged.
Derek is the scum of the earth. Like the barnacles stuck to the bottom of a vessel waiting to be chipped off and fall to their death at the bottom of a gasoline-soaked marina. It’s hard for my brain to grasp fully what a person must be made of to do that to another human being. They must be very small inside. Small like a quark.
Someone should have helped him. Everyone is guilty. Some more than others, but everyone made a choice. A choice to do nothing.
I’ve made choices like that in my life. Choices that you turn over in your head like a pig on the spit. Choices that linger around through one life cycle and on to the next. Choices that effect generations.
Rest in Peace George Floyd. I hope you’re looking down on earth to see that we care. You won’t be forgotten.
6 years ago I broke my back working for a tree company when a limb fell on me from 20 ft above. It was lunch time, but I didn’t make it to the main course. This was a hot day. 95 degrees F. One of those days where your shirts is fully soaked through. It was so hot, that my socks were soaked through. I smelled like sweat and pine. I’ve always thought the smell of pine and 2-stroke gasoline should be bottled up and sold as a fragrance.
My hard had fell off my head. I remember the sound it made hitting the ground. The sound that blades of grass make when something compresses them and then lets them go. Like a paintbrush when you run your hands down the bristles.
As I bent over to pick it up, something prompted me to look behind me. I don’t know if it was a sound, something I saw, or someone else yelling. I think it was my third eye. Some how I knew. Time moves so fast, but stood still for me then.
I smashed to the ground and gripped the grass so hard I was pulling it out of the ground. Grass sounds like velcro when you remove large amounts of it from the earth. My first thought was my baseball career, this will be the last time I play I thought. I heard people saying put him in the pickup truck we need to go to the hospital. They tried to lift me but I was in too much pain. Pain like I have never felt before.
I couldn’t feel my legs. The sensation I experieince was as if they were sinking into the earth. My boots felt like they were filled with cement and sinking in thick mud. My legs were leaving me. They call it spinal shock. I thought I’d be paralyzed.
I vividly remember handfuls of grass. I kept grabbing handful after handful. The ambulance came in slow motion. I spent decades on the ground. The smell of diesel fuel filled the air. They wouldn’t give me morphine. That trip passed bump by bump. They brought me to the ER.
I was so thirsty. I’ve never experienced thirst so intensely. I felt like Vince Vaughn walking through the dessert in True Detective. They weren’t allowed to give me water or meds due to a potential pre-surgery protocol.
A brave compassionate nurse slipped me a 1 inch by 1 inch sponge soaked in water as I begged. The sponge cube was yellow and very porous. Like the big yellow sponges you see painters use. The Nurse said, “Don’t tell anyone about this.”
That drop of water tasted so wet, so clean, so refreshing. It was just enough to rid my Xerostomia. It was all I had, and I was happy with that for the time. She was my hero.
In greek mythology Aegis was a shield or breastplate that was associated with protection during times of war. The world is at war with a virus, and our masks along with being responsibly distant is our best source of protection.
When I think of mystery as a genre, I would have never thought about science as a field that fits the mold. After having read this modules readings, I know see that science is just one big mystery story. I think that is an interesting concept. What is a mystery anyway? I think what fits into the genre may be a broader range of material than I originally thought.
One thing that comes to mind when thinking about teaching the genre is that the solving of a mystery is usually very multi dimensional and done as a group. Thing Scooby Doo… It’s the team that solves the mystery. Detectives have partners for a reason, and usually many scientist collaborate to make break throughs. This should give us some incite into how to best teach this genre to our students.
One thought I had was that students could for have partners so help solve what was presented to them as mysteries. We can use all types of modes to teach this genre. We can use music, videos food and so many more. It our jobs as educators to broaden our students understanding of what fits into the genre and what doesn’t. For example, I had never thought of science as being a mystery. Honestly, when I reflect on this I believe it could have had a big impact on how I learned science. If I was given a partner in class (like a detective) and was presented with an unsolved issue and told by the teacher “Morgan, its up to you and your partner to figure this out” I truly think I would have been much more motivated to participate. This is just one example, but I think its applicable to all subjects.
Are our students just writing biographies to learn about the subject they were assigned? Or are they solving the mystery that is how the time period, culture and many other factors shaped this persons life into what it was? I think it adds another layer of understanding that is extremely important for interdisciplinary understanding.
We can use many modes to teach this genre. For example, we give our students a piece of art and say what is this telling us, what made the artist paint this? The class watches a film or reads a poem and we ask our students to interpret the language. Poets often use clues throughout their piece to tactfully guide you to the meaning of the poem. A good poet doesn’t typically just lay it all out there to be understood. You need to dig for it, and that’s what makes it fun! Can’t we present poems to our students as just that? A mystery to be solved?
How reading The Time is NOW: Affirming Black Queer Youth made me feel as a middle-aged, white, heterosexual male.
This Post Contains Controversial Material and Dope Beatszzz : Please Be Informed
I would like to state a couple of things prior to writing this:
2. I recognize the pricelessness of articles like these. Despite the tone of my writing in this post, I agree with the thesis.
3. I recognize I usually see the world different than most people, and not always for the better.
4. I have never experienced a more socially progressive environment than my current universities atmosphere. I recently saw a poster advertising a “yoga class for racial healing”. You did not see that ten years ago. I think that is a generally a good thing. This makes me happy 🙂
5. I also feel censored in the class room environment at SCSU. More than once I have been told by professors that my ideas around social issues were wrong because they were controversial to the norm. The university is a place for the exchange and challenging of ideas. I don’t feel this exists at SCSU. I fear speaking my mind in class, and most for fear of students reactions. The fear that has been instilled in me is driven by what I feel is the desire to be the MOST politically correct. I continuously experience fear to speak openly about sensitive subjects around my peers. I have seen hostile situations arise from what I feel are topics that should be able to be openly talked about. It feels like students become quickly emotionally esculated. Student can no longer talk about sensitive issues without becoming emotionally escalated or offended by ideas that challenge and unlike their own. This makes me sad 😦
Gen Y and Gen Z, [myself included], need to start exercising some gratitude apposed to existing on a moral high horse latitude. We need to act out our movement instead of speaking out caustically about it. As a whole we don’t realize how good we’ve got it. Make no mistake about it, we are living in a time like none other in history. We need to keep up the good work but calcify our vertebral bodies.
“It’s easy to ‘teach’ literary terminology and devise quizzes on the terms, but to make the language of literature useful to readers, students need to practice using academic vocabulary in ways that deepen their understanding of how stories work” (51)
Looking at Traci Gardners mini lesson is a good representation of why I am nervous about the process of becoming an effective teacher once I begin my career. Her work serves as a good example of how to create the proper climate of progression within any classroom. The progression I’m referring to, is movement towards successful completion of CCSS Language Arts grade level standards.
After digesting Gardners mini-lesson, I started to think that there are two different categories of teachers. There are those that teach details, and then there are those that facilitate learning. Learning is a fluid, universal process; details are dry and one dimensional.
Teaching students to regurgitate details and facts is simple. Facilitating learning is hard and takes much planning. This mini lesson was a good reminder of that.
Although subject details are necessary, they do not inherently promote learning. For example, the literary terms list is what I think of when I think of subject details. The act of knowing those words does not represent “learning”. The process of coming to know those words and how they work together in literature (the big picture) would be a more accurate representation.
With that said, I feel learning goes deeper than rote memorization.
In the recourses section of Gardners mini lesson there were two tools that I had never seen before. They allowed students to illustrate the process of their learning. The plot diagram and narrative pyramid. They both seem like tools that elicit an analysis and explanation of the text. This is different and represents a deeper understanding apposed to just being able to re-tell the story. These are two great tools to have in your tool belt.
You can tell by the key words Gardner used to describe the students learning objectives that the outcome would be a deeper understanding of the text, not just rote memorizations. She states that the students will use one of the graphic organizers as evidence for their analysis of the plot.
I believe this lesson plan and how well it is organized represents how we must plan our lessons to create the proper progressive learning atmosphere within our classroom. The graphic organizers Gardner teaches allow the students to see their ideas flow and culminate the lesson by demonstrating their learning through detailed analysis of the plot