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We Make the Road by . . . Making!

Final Reflection for HTH 240: Liberating Structures for Inclusive Classrooms

Eduardo

Eduardo stood in front of the class, holding his contraption: a large white box with a hole cut out
at one end. This is my vortex canon, he announced. I made it over the weekend. It was the
beginning of a new week and Eduardos turn to share at morning meeting. Let me show you
how it works, he said proudly. His first grade classmates were now completely silent, on the
edge of their seats, eager to see exactly what the vortex canon would do. Eduardo positioned a
small plastic glass on one side of a table and his invention on the other. Then . . . BOOM! He
slammed the middle of the box with both hands, and the glass went flying off the table. The
class was in awe. Magic! How does it work? I asked. It pushes the air out, and that hits the
glass, Eduardo explained. A huge grin lit up his face. He couldnt have looked happier.

Like many young children, Eduardo loves to move and talk and play and make. But, by his own
admission, Eduardo sometimes finds it difficult to control his body. During calmer activities,
such as literacy centers, he can wander around the classroom, start chatting with neighbors, or
build towers out of pencils. In kindergarten, Eduardo experienced similar challenges, but the
educational program was a better match for his learning style. In The Power of Their Ideas
(2002), Deborah Meier celebrates the playful, autonomous spirit that characterizes kindergarten
classrooms:
[Kindergarten] is, alas, the last time children are given independence, encouraged to
make choices, and allowed to move about on their own steam. The older they get the
less we take into account the importance of childrens own interests, and the less we
cherish their capacity for engaging in imaginative play. (In fact, we worry in
kindergarten if children lack such capacity, while later on we worry if they show it too
much.) In kindergarten, we design our rooms for real work, not just passive listening (p.
48).
Eduardo took advantage of this environment. As a kindergartener, he would sometimes arrive
at school and request materials from his teacher: I need some paper plates, some straws, and
some string, he once said. Then, he went to work! In first grade, an increasing focus on
foundational academic skills leaves less time for these creative, hands-on endeavors. In other
words, there are fewer opportunities for Eduardo to exercise his passion for making. After
seeing Eduardo in his element, I knew I had to find more of these opportunities. Perhaps they
could be a positive outlet for Eduardos boundless energy.

Before long, I expanded my thinking. Surely, Eduardo was not the only child in the class who
enjoyed manipulating materials, putting his imagination to work, and sharing his creations. In
fact, dont all kids love these things? I wondered if there were other students in our class like
Eduardo, less conspicuous but just as in need of chance to create. Perhaps all of our first grade
students would benefit. I envisioned a more differentiated day, where we balanced literacy,
math, and writing activities with a more kinesthetic learning experience. Inspired by the
Maker theme of this years Deeper Learning conference, my teaching partner and I planned to
introduce Maker Time.

A Constructivist Framework

At first, I was unsure how to frame this experience. Should we set specific challenges, such as
how to build a bridge with popsicle sticks, or eschew formal learning objectives? Maker Time
could be a free-associative activity with no specific goals in mind; making would be sufficient to
itself. It was a curious dilemma.

To resolve it, I reflected on the relationship between teacher and learner. To start, people are
always learning. As we move through life, we continually make meaning of the world. In The
Power of Play: Learning What Comes Naturally (2007), David Elkin highlights the value of
autonomous learning experiences for young children:
It is vitally important to support and encourage self-directed activities by the infant and
young child. Even if those activities appear meaningless to us, they can have great
purpose and significance for the child. (p. 93).
It would be foolish, however, to conclude that teachers serve no purpose. The role of the
teacher, according to one of my colleagues, is to help people make more meaning of the world.
(I would add that great teachers also help people create meaning in the world.) In We Make the
Road by Walking (1990), Paulo Freire emphasizes the teachers active role in the learning
process: The educator as an intellectual has to intervene. He cannot be a mere facilitator. He
has to affirm to himself or herself (p. 180). If teachers were to leave students by themselves,
Freire claims, it would be to fall into a kind of irresponsibility (p. 181). In crafting a vision for
Maker Time, I attempted to blend the perspectives of Elkin and Freire. Maker Time would be
directed by the students, but I would intervene to help them make meaning of their experience.

To set the stage for this relationship, I identified three areas where I hoped my students would
grow: creativity, collaboration, and communication. These areas are consistent with a
constructivist framework that places student learning center stage. In the final section their
book, In Search of Understanding: The Case for the Constructivist Classroom (2002), Brooks and
Brooks review how constructivist teachers encourage and accept student autonomy and
initiative. Students would choose who they worked with (in groups of four) and help to set
norms. When it came to making, students would be granted total creative freedom. Students
would have access to a maker box, full of stickers, pipe cleaners, felt, and balsa wood (among
other materials), and they could make whatever their hearts desired.














To assist with meaning-making, I offered students a particular lens for creativity: divergent
thinking. According to Sir Ken Robinson (2010), divergent thinking is the ability to see lots of
possible answers. When introducing Maker Time, I would take an object from one of the
boxes and pose a question to the children: what different things could this be? A cardboard
tube, for example, could be a wheel, a tower, or a musical instrument. The possibilities are
endless! In an RSA animate video, Sir Ken describes a study that measured the divergent
thinking of 1,500 participants. The test question was simple: how many uses can you think of
for a paperclip? While most people could think of approximately 10-15 answers, there was one
group that stood out: 98% of kindergartners scored in the genius level. Sadly, as these
children grew older, their divergent thinking abilities lapsed. By talking with students about
multiple ways to view the same object, I hoped to nurture and sustain this capacity for creative
thinking.

Our focus on collaboration and communication also drew from a constructivist framework. To
help students construct meaning, Brooks and Brooks (2002) repeatedly point to the power of
discourse.
Having an opportunity to present ones own ideas, as well as being permitted to hear
and reflect on the ideas of others, is an empowering experience. The benefit of discourse
with others, particularly with peers, facilitates the meaning-making process (p.108).
In our classroom, this approach took on additional importance. Many students are still learning
how to work together, while others are hesitant about sharing their learning with peers. To
foster collaboration, students would be encouraged to ask each other questions, offer support,
and provide feedback. They would also be encouraged to trade materials and share resources in
their maker boxes. In an effort to develop students communicational skills, we would invite
students to present their creations to others. To alleviate the pressure of speaking in front of
the whole class and allow each student a little more time, we would split the students into two
groups. At each sharing session, students would be encouraged to describe what they made,
the different parts of their creation, and who they worked with. In this way, we would be
strengthening our spotlights on divergent thinking and collaboration.

Time to Make

When I announced that we would be doing a hands-on activity, the students were excited.
Where I had just seen a bubbly group of kids, I now saw six rows of perfectly attentive students.
Eduardo, I should note, was particularly focused; he wasnt moving a muscle, though soon, of
course, he would be. After generating a list of expectations and selecting their groups, students
stood in front of their boxes with baited breath. They had been craving this kind of experience,
I thought. I gave the signal to begin. Instead of a noisy classroom, which I had been expecting, I
heard the quiet buzz that teachers dream of, the sound of students deeply engaged in their
work.

Although I was unsure how to gauge the impact of maker time on students creative,
collaborative, and communicational skills, there were many moments which signaled growth in
these areas. In terms of creativity, the students had no shortage of ideas for what to make:
battleships, carnival rides, puppets, and pancakes all emerged from construction paper, glue,
and other basic materials. I was pleasantly surprised the range of ideas exhibited by individuals.
Over the course of three maker sessions, Eduardo made a telephone, a fishing rod, and a paper
suit. At the same time, I was impressed by the quality of the creations. Students were invested
in making their creations as beautiful as possible. In fact, the most difficult part of the process
was getting students to stop making and clean up. Overall, it was wonderful to see the
students unbridled and (almost) unstoppable creativity.

Maker time provided a space for students to collaborate, and it was interesting to see how
students interacted with one another. Instances of support and conflict were common. When
students were not sure what materials to use for a particular creation, other students were
quick to offer suggestions. During one session, one student angrily crumpled up a sheet of
paper because she wasnt satisfied with her drawing. In response, the student next to her
uncrumpled the paper, examined her work, and said Look at this part. I think its beautiful.
Conflicts over resources offered students an opportunity to practice problem-solving. On one
occasion, students decided to share a material by cutting it into pieces. On another occasion,
one student re-examined her creation and decided she no longer needed the item in question.
During Maker Time, working together meant negotiating the possibilities and conflicts around
resources.

Since students could decide what they were creating, they were enthusiastic to talk about their
choices. In fact, some students were so excited to share their work, they started showing their
finished products to friends while others were still making. Over the course of several sessions,
students shared their work in groups (of approximately ten students) as well as with their tenth-
grade buddies. In general, students seemed more comfortable sharing in partners. While
confident in their work, shyer students struggled to find the confidence to explain their process
in large groups.

Maker Time was (and still is) a journey into the unknown. Instead of setting some kind of
challenge or goal, children simply explore what they might create with the contents of a box. At
the beginning of this adventure, I had worried that children wouldnt know what to make. This,
however, was never a problem. Beyond our basic expectations of safety and respect for one
another, it was impossible to tell what would emerge out of these sessions. What will students
imagine? What opportunities for learning will emerge through collaboration? How will
students share their learning with others? To answer these questions, we must make the road
by making!

Works Cited

Brooks, J. G., & Brooks, M. G. (2001). In search of understanding: The case for constructivist
classrooms. Alexandria, VA: ASCD.

Elkind, D. (2007). The power of play: Learning what comes naturally. Philaldelphi, PA: Da
Capo Press.

Horton, M., & Freire, P. (1990). We make the road by walking: Conversations on education and
social change. Philadelphia, PA: Kohn, A. (1993).

Meier, D. (2002). The power of their ideas: Lessons for America from a small school in Harlem.
Boston, MA: Beacon Press.

Robinson, K. (2010). RSA animate: Changing education paradigms. United Kingdom: RSA Events,
http://www. cognitivemedia. co. uk). Retrieved December, 15, 2013.

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