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Hi folks,

Hope that your holidays are going well. Here's a short orginal story about
technology that only mentions computers once. I welcome your reaction. I am
unsure of my own.

Doug



Stone Soup: A Classroom Parable
Doug Johnson <palsdaj@vax1.mankato.msus.edu>

        When Ms. Eastman returned to her classroom one fall she found a
large boulder had appeared in the middle of her classroom. It was about the
size of washing machine, gray with silver glints, and could neither be
ignored nor moved.
        "I think you'll just have to make the best of it," the principal
advised, unable to explain how or why it came to be there. "I think the
Board may have wanted it, and the budget just won't support hiring a
professional rock mover," he said in a single breath, and resumed his
telephone conversation with the parent of child who had just eaten a
wall-mounted pencil sharpener.

***
        When Ms. Eastman's students returned, they immediately pounced on
the rock.
         "Hey, it's like the one in my backyard."
        "Check it out. It's a throne."
        "Nah, a bomber."
        "It's perfect for my desk!"
        "Where did it come from, why is it here, who gets to sit at it, why
can't we all have one?"
        Ms. Eastman asked the class to get to work, and as they opened
their textbooks and began to quietly read, she distributed worksheets.

***
        The rock proved to be an annoyance. It was _right_ in the middle of
the room. It made creating a seating chart difficult. It was too far from
the front of the room to be used as a stand for the overhead projector, and
the irregularity of its surface made it a poor desk or surface on which to
affix papers. On occasion, when a student had done exceptionally well, Ms.
Eastman allowed that person to "Read on the Rock." But for the first
quarter, the entire class just worked around the boulder.
        Late one November afternoon, Ms. Eastman overheard two students
engaged in a heated argument over the composition of the stone. "Settle
this intelligently," she admonished. "Both of you, go to the library, do
your research, and come back and report to the class." In less than half an
hour, two excited children returned.  "It's definitely basalt with quartz
flecks. Hey, do know where this came from? A volcano..." The class listened
intently as the pair shared their findings about the rock.

***
        Over her second margarita that evening, Ms. Eastman reflected on
that afternoon's class, and decided it had gone particularly well. The kids
were enthusiastic and attentive. One of the two children who did the
research on the rock performed at higher level and showed more interest in
school than Ms. Eastman thought it possible for him to. She began to see
the rock's glitter in a new light.
        The next Monday morning, Ms. Eastman read the class the myth of
Sisyphus, and asked the students to use questions raised during the
discussion as the basis of their journal writing. Over the next week or so,
articles related to rocks keep popping up in magazines and newspapers. Ms.
Eastman used these as springboards for lessons in math and science and
history. Soon students were finding and sharing information they themselves
had found about rocks in their reading and viewing.
        Just before turning off the classroom lights one evening, Ms.
Eastman caught a glimpse of white near the base of the stone. It was a note
left in a crevice of the rock. When asked, the class sheepishly admitted
the rock was serving as a classroom post office. "Are these the same kids I
can't get to put two cogent words together in their journals?" wondered Ms.
Eastman. She struck a deal with the class: they could continue to write
their letters as long as they revised one letter each week.  That letter
would be read for grammar and spelling, and could be shared with the rest
of the class.

***
        As the year progressed, many activities began to center around the
rock. Parts of the rock easily broke away into pebble size pieces and the
class began a business selling "Stone Soup Starters." In the processes,
students applied math, designed advertisements, and worried about ethics.
At various times the rock was the setting for plays about the Pilgrims and
pioneers on the Oregon trail. Science class divided into small groups which
used the rock to demonstrate principles of acids and bases, friction,
gravity, and sundials.  One morning a small wooden door appeared firmly
attached to the base the rock, which one student adamantly declared was a
passage to Van Allsburg Land. Van Allsburg Land soon had a language with
its own syntax, a codified set of laws, and even its own culture - all
which in some strange way reflected the world the class lived in and was
trying hard to understand.

***
        One day in early May the principal called Ms Eastman to his office.
"Do you have the correct code to the photocopier?" he asked.  Ms. Eastman
looked puzzled. "You have made almost no photocopies since October. We need
these numbers to satisfy the central office, you realize." He was right,
Ms. Eastman mused. She hadn't used many worksheets, she'd used only pieces
of her text book, and had not shown a videotape from beginning to end since
November. Her grade book had only a few entries, but each of her students
had a pizza box crammed with exemplary reports, graphs, drawings, and
models she had asked them to collect since the last parent teacher
conference.
        She reflected her class this year must have just been made up of
exceptional children, just the right chemistry. They cooperated, they were
genuinely interested in school, they held good discussions, and they were
conscientious about the quality of their work. They seemed to be reading
more newspapers and magazines, came back from the library with more
materials and fewer complaints from the librarian, and could apply math
principles more quickly and accurately to every day problems than previous
years' classes. Ms. Eastman was still in happy amazement as her graduate
classes started in June.

***
        When Ms. Eastman returned to her classroom the following fall she
found a computer had appeared in the middle of her classroom...


Doug Johnson, District Media Supervisor  | Be not simply good;
I.S.D. 77, Mankato Public Schools        | be good for something.
Box 8713, Mankato MN 56002-8713          |        -Thoreau
Voice: 507-387-7698                      |
Fax: 507-387-2496                        |
E-mail: palsdaj@vax1.mankato.msus.edu    |
or:     djohns1@west.isd77.k12.mn.us
http://www.isd77.k12.mn.us/staffdir/staff2/Johnson_Doug.html


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