Tag: Maker Spaces

Sew Easy: Lessons in Perseverance

~ wordancerblog ~ 2 Comments

There are three rites of passage in the Wonder Studio: using the hot glue gun, working a hack saw, and learning to sew. The joyful expressions on students’ faces as they learn these skills are salve for my weary teacher’s soul.  These small accomplishments remind me of my original purpose when designing the Wonder Studio. Student agency was key.  I want to provide a safe place in which to make mistakes and grow confidence.  Sometimes, I get lulled into the belief that it’s just a messy place where kids spill paint, smear glue, and don’t adequately clean up. And then there are those moments when Susie uses the hacksaw for the first time and loudly proclaims, “I just use the hack saw! It was fun!” Beaming from ear to ear, she lifts up two pieces of wood to show everyone her handiwork. 

Sometimes, success takes a while, sometimes we need to overcome our fears first.  This was the case for Liv, who needed to hot glue small pieces for an intricate wooden spinning fidget that she was constructing.  She was afraid of using the hot glue gun, so I offered to glue the pieces.  Liv was not satisfied with the job I had done: too much glue and not quite in the exact perfect spot.  My big hands couldn’t execute the results she had desired.  Over the course of the next week, Liv got up the courage to use the hot glue gun herself.  She put together her fidget just as she had imagined. 

Then she quietly came up to me and said, “I am so proud of myself.”

“Yes, it is beautiful,” I said.

“Not for making it, Mrs. Emery. I’m proud that I overcame my fear of the glue gun.”

I chuckled and slapped her a high five, “Hooray for you!” I said.

The once hesitant, shy Liv is now master of the glue gun.  This experience of playing and experimenting with materials is essential for building confidence and character.

This week, Allie sat down next to me and expressed her desire to learn to sew. I agreed to show her.  Allie wanted to make a small drawstring pouch in which to collect pom-poms.  Doesn’t everyone?  I first traced a circle on a piece of colorful fabric.  Then Allie cut out the circle.  I outlined in pencil the track in which Lynne should sew.  I threaded a needle and asked her to watch me.  Allie became agitated. She started to recount all the reasons why she couldn’t learn how to sew.  Tears formed in her eyes, and she abruptly stood up ready to flee.  I motioned for her to sit back down. 

“I can’t do it! You have to show me,” she said. 

“Allie, listen.  Take a deep breath.  That’s what I’ve been doing,” I said calmly.

“You have to show me!” she demanded.

“Yes, but you have to look at me. Look at my hands.  Watch what I’m doing,”

She began to relax and concentrate on my hands. 

I began to verbalize my actions, “Up, pull through, down, pull though,” over and over again.

Then I handed the needle to Allie.  She began one stitch, two stitches, then over the edge of the fabric. Oh, no – a mistake.  Allie froze, she stood up, and tears well in her eyes again, “I can’t do it!” she yelled.

I reached out my hand, “It’s okay.  It’s okay.  That’s a very common mistake. I made that mistake a hundred times when I was learning to sew.”

She looked at me skeptically.

“You think that I never make mistakes?” I asked.

“Yes, you are perfect,” she declared seriously.

I laughed,” I make mistakes all the time.  It may look like things are easy for me because I’m old.  But I couldn’t learn anything if I didn’t make mistakes.  Mistakes are opportunities to learn.”

I pulled out the floss, threaded the needle again, and handed it back to Allie.  She sat down and began again.  She sewed all the way around the circle.  I clapped and smiled.  She grinned from ear to ear.  I pulled the drawstring and the circle magically became a pouch.  Allie put in her selected pom-poms.

“Allie, I’m going to help Liv. Make sure that you don’t cut the ends of the floss,” I said and left her for a few minutes.”

When I returned the floss ends were cut short.  I looked at Allie astonished, “Why did you cut the floss ends?”

“Because I didn’t want the long strings hanging,” she explained, adding that another girl told her to cut them.  The other girl loudly denied it.

“I told you not to cut them, Allie.  I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t know why you said that.  I didn’t know what would happened,” she replied looking scared.

“It’s okay,” I said, pulling out the thread and hold up the fabric circle, “Now you have the needle track to guide you. It will be easier this time.”

Allie dried her eyes and took the circle from me.  She began again and made no mistakes.  When she was done, we refilled it with colorful pompoms.  I showed Allie how to carefully put the drawstrings and tie them in a bow so she could easily open and close her precious pouch.

Allie did learn to sew last Thursday, but she leaned so much more.  She learned to never give up, to always try again, and to persevere even when things got hard, especially when things got hard.  And most of all, always push past your mistakes and push through your fear.

Later that day, I was walking down the hallway past Allie’s class.  And there she was, colorful pom-pom pouch in hand showing it off to her admiring classmates like sewing was easy, like she had known how to sew all along.  And this is why I continue to love teaching.  These moments, these times with students, these small important lessons help them grow and make me proud that I continue to be a teacher.

Inside the Wonder Studio: A Space for Mistakes

~ wordancerblog ~ 4 Comments

All things are literally better, lovelier, and more beloved

for the imperfections which have been divinely appointed…

– John Ruskin

When I conceived of the Wonder Studio eight years ago, I thought of a space where students could go to create and play with craft and building materials.  I wanted the kids to have freedom to think up an idea and create it.  Their projects were not made by following directions. They were made by experimenting and tinkering; trying out an idea and changing it.

For the first six years, the space was called Wonder Lab, and it was housed in a large former art room where kids could build large projects with cardboard, wood, duct tape, hammers, nails, and paint.  Then, two years ago, the Wonder Lab space was needed for a new Computer Science & Engineering  (CS&E) Lab, so I quietly moved to the lobby area between the CS&E and my office.  It was cozy with a fireplace and access to a circular porch.  I dubbed it the Wonder Studio and continued to invite children to come and imagine, and they have.  Their projects are smaller now, but their ideas continue to be big.

Sometimes, I think the children are not paying attention, that they don’t fully understand the importance of the Wonder Studio. And of course, I’ve been proven wrong.  This week, a group of 5th graders were working on building a replica of their classrooms to present as a gift to their teachers on Teacher Appreciation Day.  They have been working diligently to complete it for the past six weeks.  As they began to decorate the structure, they wrapped muslin onto the walls of the classroom.  They used Elmer’s glue and as a result the fabric bubbled and buckled.  I wish they had consulted me beforehand, but they are an independent and tenacious lot.  When they came to me for advice, we talked about their options. First, I thought of removing the fabric, but it was glued down so well, it would have destroyed the walls. Next, we tried smoothing it with our hands and some tongue depressors.  Then, I tried pulling the fabric tighter and trimming off the excess. The girls were dismayed and dissatisfied. I told them that when the fabric dried, it might look better, and that when they attached the miniature bulletin boards and whiteboards, they would hide much of the buckling fabric.

The leader of the group was clearly disappointed.  She said, “Oh it’s ugly now.  Let’s give it to Mrs. Emery.” 

I smiled, “Well, thank you very much.  You are going to give me it because you think it’s ugly?”

Another girl piped up quickly,” No, Mrs. Emery, we’d give it to you because you are a creator, and you understand when thing don’t turn out perfectly.  You love them anyway.”

I laughed and touched my heart, “That is the best thing I’ve heard in a long time. Thank you.”

Then we returned to work together to make the fabric smoother.  They decided that they would indeed give the model to their teachers.  I can’t wait to see how it finally turns out.

Never underestimate children!  They truly appreciate this space in which to make mistakes.  And I’m so glad I created it for them.  I beam with pride knowing that they see me as being someone who accepts mistakes; someone who embraces ugly.  I have always been that way.  I don’t know why.  Naturally shy with people, I am bold when crafting. I love challenging myself and trying new things. I’m okay if something turns out wobbly and uneven.  That gives the object more character, more charm, more substance.

My favorite movie as a child was The Music Man.  First of all, it was a musical, and as a kid I wished life was a musical, so we could all burst into song at any moment of the day, in good times and bad.  Indeed, the world would be a better place if this were the case.  The ending of The Music Man has remained in my memory, and its message took hold deep in my heart and mind.  Professor Harold Hill was clearly a huckster, but he was also a dreamer.  So when his music students (who could not read a note of music) come out to march in the town parade, they are seen by Professor Hill and the townspeople as being a brilliant, accomplished band.  That scene formed my philosophy of education, which has sustained me for over 40 years: Give kids space and encouragement to create.  Applaud both their accomplishments and their mistakes.  With time, they will surely grow and do great things.

Embracing the Process

~ wordancerblog ~ 6 Comments

During the last two weeks, I have had the good fortune to get back into the Wonder Studio with students.  The Wonder Studio is a little swathe of space formerly the lobby of an old Victorian building that houses some of my school’s classrooms and offices.  I created the space to give children a place to craft and have agency over their own imaginations.  I gather junk, art and craft materials, and recyclables, and then stand back to see what the girls do with them.  Wonder Studio is not a class, though the girls have begged it to be.  Studio time is granted two days a week during recess on the days that I don’t have meetings at lunchtime.

This spring, I invited the 5th graders to come back into the Wonder Studio.  They love to make messes. Today, they sang the “Clean-up Song” to me that they learned in Pre-K. They sang so sweetly and earnestly,  however they didn’t quite clean everything up.  Some of them tried to skip out without cleaning brushes or throwing away paper scraps.  I get it.  I was twelve once.  I was, I assure you – and I too loved to make messes, create, build, and imagine. And I still do.

Last week, while Laila was working on yet another new project, I observed aloud that she often created things and then abandoned them.  She looked up at me grinning.

“I know,” she said, “I love the process.” 

I laughed and agreed.  Then I asked her if I could dismantle her massive seashell sculpture so others could use the shells. She gave me her permission.  As I worked ungluing the shells, Laila started looking around the room at my materials.  She often finds things I didn’t know I had.  Soon, Laila held up a small pink plastic bowl, which was serving as a container for someone else’s small project.  I looked at her skeptically. 

“They won’t mind.  It’s not part of the project.” Laila promised. “Here,” she said as she held up a small box, “They can use this.”  And off Laila went with bowl in hand to create her next project. 

The other girls in the group spend time making bracelets, sewing patchwork pillows, decorating small boxes, or making little rooms decorated with paint, glue, and cotton balls.  Everyone is quiet and very intentional in their constructing.  I do not offer advice unless asked, and I help with construction only when the student needs assistance.  I keep my distance and my humor. Wonder Studio time is actually my time to relax and let joy come to me.  It always does, and it’s worth the mess and the cajoling to clean up.

Laila got out her favorite tool, the hot glue gun and began to adhere things to the small plastic bowl.  She found that the plastic forks did not stay on properly and then peeled them off. Next, Laila took some fat pink yarn and began to wind it onto the bottom of the bowl. She wanted to use counting bears from the math lab closet, but I told her that we couldn’t use math materials.  She frowned and began hunting for a replacement.  She found small wooden objects: an alligator, a bear, a snail, a leaf, and a heart.  As I watched this process, I was fascinated by how quick she worked and how undaunted she was when she encountered failure.  In fact, Laila didn’t think of it as failure, she was enjoying the challenge. Laila would just try something new if the first thing she thought of didn’t work.  At one point, I asked her what she was making.

With a smile, she turned and said, “A centerpiece for your desk!”

I laughed and said, “Laila – when I’m old and in the retirement home I hope you will stop by and show me photos of all the sculptures you have on exhibit all over the world.”

“I will,” Laila said cheerfully and got back to work. When it was time to clean up, she was reluctant.  I put the bowl in my office and told her that it would be waiting for her when she returned to the Wonder Studio.

Today, Laila finished her project.  She put a wooden pedestal in the center of the bowl and turned it over.  Then she glued the pedestal to a jar lid and turned it upside down.  She came over and handed it to me.

“The centerpiece for my desk?” I asked, taking it carefully into my hands.

“A lamp for your desk,” Lalia replied.

I laughed, “Of course, a lamp.  It looks just like a lamp. I am going to put it by pink teapot. Thank you.”

And with that, Laila turned back into the Wonder Studio and started another project, this time with beads.  She took hot glue and put it at the end of some string.  “This way, I don’t have to make a knot,” she said.

Human imagination continues to surprise me. After forty-two years of teaching. I’m still not sure how to teach this kind of ingenuity. The only thing I do know is to make space and step out of the way.  I know that I have to be quiet and listen.  My students always show me the way.  They know what they need.  They know when they are stuck. They know how to change their circumstances and make something new. The process is the learning, and they are totally engaged and in the flow of creating. The key is to embrace the process.

Most Likely to Create

~ wordancerblog ~ 8 Comments

Humans are social animals and as such we seek community.  We yearn for communication and understanding.  We want to be seen and most definitely heard. There are all kinds of communities to which I have belonged.  I have been part of a community of quilters, dancers, painters, teachers, cooks, readers, martial artists, and writers. As part of those communities, I was able to build strong bonds with others who shared similar interests and passions.  These alliances deepened my understanding and helped me express my ideas and support my fellow members.  I experienced valuable interactions and connections.  I learned and thrived by being part of all these communities.

As a teacher, I’m a natural collaborator. I enjoy standing back and observing students working in small affinity groups on various projects.  Engagement is the key to empowerment, and I’ve witnessed formerly detached children flourish. In these types of circumstances, children begin to recognize what interests them and learn how to make important contributions to their groups and to their common projects.

Recently I watched the documentary, Most Likely to Succeed created by Ted Dintersmith, a professor of engineering and the author of Most Likely to Succeed and What Schools Could Be. The movie chronicles students from High Tech High in San Diego California, which is a project-based high school. Project-based learning is a method of teaching where students work on a project over a period of time that entails solving real-word problems or answers a complex question.  Students work collaboratively, building skills and knowledge, and ultimately showcasing their project or presentation to a target audience. The movie follows the students through their freshman year.  We watch as students gain more and more confidence and knowledge.  They support each other and develop leadership skills. The year culminates with a school exhibit where students showcase their work be it art, theater, or engineering.  We revel in their successes, but we also get a glimpse of failure.  One student fails to finish his engineering project on time.  However, instead of wallowing in despair, his peers, teachers and family rally around him. He is able to reflect on the reasons he was unable to make the deadline. Clearly this student had a keen innovative mind.  His teachers knew that proper reflection and determination would lead to eventual success.  And they were right.  The student worked through the summer and was ultimately successful. His project was very intricate and displayed a high level of thought and expertise.  By failing, he was able to fail forward and create a complex piece that reflected his vision.

            After watching this film, I saw that there was another documentary with the same title – Most Likely to Succeed directed by Pamela Littky.  This documentary followed four high school seniors who have been voted “Most Likely to Succeed.”  The film follows these young adults over a ten-year period following their dreams of college and desires for career success and happiness.  The teenagers come from very different backgrounds and the film accurately portrays the trials and tribulations that arise given gender, race, and socio-economic status.  It is an incredibly powerful film, and I find myself wondering what has happened to those adults.  Viewers cannot help but create a strong connection with the characters, and one has to keep reminding oneself that these are real teenagers, with real problems, and real dreams. It is with community and connection that they are able to successfully navigate their lives and set a stable course.

            I have the honor of supervising my school’s make space called the Wonder Lab.  It is a multi-age community of elementary school girls.  They come voluntarily and work on projects of their choosing.  So often they tell me how important the lab is to them.  So often they beg to stay the whole afternoon.  It is so rewarding to see them take risks and work together; share ideas and challenge each other.  As we return to school this fall, I wonder how I can offer this space to them.  How can we still be a community of movers and makers?  I’m sketching out all types of plans because I know how essential this work is to their development.  I know it’s not just kids playing with duct tape and cardboard.  I know I have inventors, engineers, astronauts, entrepreneurs, artist, actors, musicians in front of me.  I know it is imperative to provide them space and foster community.

Most Likely to Create

Little girls gather

Forfeiting their recess

To spend time in the Wonder Lab,

A spacious room

Filled with light and

All manner of treasures:

Cartons, boxes, tubes,

String, nails, hammers,

Paints, tape, paper,

Wires, beads, gears…

What do you wonder?

What can you create?

Away they go –

The younger ones bound off

And start right away,

The older ones hang back a bit,

Talk together, write down plans.

The young ones have already

Started building with tubes

Taller than themselves.

And decide to begin

The older ones look on

Very carefully,

Very deliberately,

Soon there is a busy hum,

A flow of energy,

We forget the time.

Now older ones praise younger ones,

And younger ones help older ones,

And the quiet girl in the corner

Who builds by herself

Astounds everyone,

And is soon imitated.

They borrow, bend, cut, and paste,

They sketch, paint, and measure,

They lend a hand; they exchange ideas,

They construct a community of makers.