August, 2012
What is Genius?
I admit, I’ve been called a genius before.
I also admit this was by young-ish people who knew I controlled their grade. Or who were easily impressed by my mathematical abilities.
As much as I appreciate the compliment, I’m no genius. Not by official standards, anyway. I test well, but not that well. I have moments of cleverness, but too many of them strike me long after the needed moment. I do plenty of stupid things.
You know, I bet certified geniuses do stupid things sometimes, too.
And I bet to some students, I am a genius … in a way that has nothing to do with MENSA.
So unofficially, what is genius?
It’s not about passing tests (and I say that as an ace test-taker … near meaningless in my opinion). It’s not necessarily about book-smarts, though there’s nothing wrong with having those. Traditionally, book-smarts is about regurgitating information, re-creating someone else’s genius.
To me, a genius is someone whose ideas or works spark a feeling of newness, differentness, freshness in my mind. Sounds a lot like having creativity and imagination, and those may be part of it. But I’m not sure they’re required, either.
I think that spark of newness explains why some students call me a genius. I may talk about mathematics (or anything else) in a way they haven’t heard before. It sparks a new connection.
Under that definition, genius is relative. It depends on our own experiences, expectations, and priorities. No membership cards, no certifications … just our own acknowledgement of each other.
I kind of like it better that way. Maybe I’m a genius to some of my students. Many of them have been geniuses to me.
Who are some unacknowledged geniuses in your life?
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5 commentsThe Real Teens of YA County
Hopefully this is preaching to the choir. A lot of YA writers are great about having textured, nuanced teen characters. Still, sometimes the cast is filled with an overabundance of “the regulars.”
The jock. The cheerleader. The nerd. The nondescript average teen.
Wait, there’s no such thing as that last one. Never in all my classrooms have I come across one of those. They show up in novels, though. Weird, that. It got me thinking about what I have seen. Here’s a sampling of students I have taught or am teaching.
Students who weren’t supposed to live past the night they were born.
Students whose parent is world-famous.
Students whose entire family is deaf (and sometimes that student is the most hearing among them).
Students who excel in a sport and qualify as a “geek” in another area (math, music, theater, …).
Students with such a mix of half- and step-siblings, there are six or seven different last names in their household.
Students whose bodies could break all too easily.
Students with the most spectacular cases of ADHD.
Students who are in foster care because their parents are in jail.
Students who aren’t supposed to have much of a life expectancy.
Students who are quiet for a reason … and very NOT quiet when you get them going. (By the way, this group is never, EVER boring.)
I could go on if I let myself, but you get the idea.
Some of those I see in novels. Some not so much. (Of course, I’m not as super-wide-read in some genres of YA as I’d like to be.) Some only when it’s the “issue” of the story. Maybe some things could be incidental to the plot. The MC’s best friend is in a foster family, but that’s not the point of the story.
Or maybe that’s just me and my preferences. Maybe some people would read that and keep waiting and waiting for that fact to become relevant.
What do you think? Are there certain types of teens you’d like to see pop up more in YA literature?
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2 commentsLearning the Hard Way
Sometimes it doesn’t matter how many times you tell someone that a surface is hot. They’re just going to have to touch it.
In my first math lesson with my new classes this week, I noticed a trend in my first couple of classes. As they worked on their homework near the end of class, several of them got to a particular problem and didn’t know what to do. It had three different variables and they were supposed to evaluate it.
Without exception, those who asked had neglected to read the instructions, where it gave a value for each variable.
I figured I’d save myself a little trouble and warn my remaining class periods. A part of the lesson had the exact same type of problem, so when we got to that, I mentioned the issue. I told them that other students got to those problems in the homework and didn’t know what to do because they didn’t read the directions.
Later, we get to homework time. I walk around the room, helping students when they get stuck.
Invariably, more than one raises their hand. “I don’t know what to do here.”
I point to a line in their textbook. “Did you see this?”
“No, I—oh! You totally warned us and I did it anyway!”
They felt like idiots. I assured them they weren’t the only one to do it, and made a little joke about how they’d never forget to read directions again, right?
I already know there’s only so much they can absorb at one time, and which parts stick depends on their own priorities.
Live and learn, kiddos.
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3 comments"Thank You" Isn’t Dead
I’m finishing out the first week of school. It’s been a busy week, in an uneventful way. More students to teach than I’ve had in the last six years combined. Using my voice all the time (and trying to restrict my hand movements).
I remember one thing that struck me back when I started at my last school, working with deaf kids. A lot of them would say thank you when I was handing out papers. Part of me wanted to say, “I just gave you a calculus test—what are you thanking me for?” Really, though, I appreciated it.
Yet this week, it struck me again. Kids getting up to leave at the end of class, several of them thanking me as they walk out.
Teenagers, mind you. Around fourteen years old, most of them.
Yes, teenagers can be cynical. Teenagers can be rude.
They can also be awesome.
Pretty much like the rest of us.
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3 commentsIs There Such a Thing as "Bad"?
From the Department of Uncomfortable Questions:
Is there such a thing as bad writing?
Let’s assume we’re not talking about misspellings galore, egregious grammar gaffes, and other such technical things that make it about as comprehensible as the typings of Pika the kitten. Let’s say we’re talking only about manuscripts that have been through the world’s best spelling and grammar checks.
Then, is there such a thing as “bad”? When discussing things like voice, style, plotting, character, and all that makes fiction worth reading, is there a minimal level of competence? Some magic line below which is an auto-reject and above which is a “well, it depends”?
Do we do ourselves damage when we assume it’s all just subjectivity, rather than making the effort to improve our craft?
Do we do ourselves damage when we assume our writing is crap, rather than acknowledging our strengths and the fact that we can’t please everyone?
If there is a line, even a murky one, how do we find it? Our gut? Honest critique partners? I’m guessing “murky” is a key word there. Really excellent writing seems easy enough to identify, whether it’s our thing or not. I know I’ve had the experience of reading something and thinking, “Wow, this is so well-written. I’m just not into (insert genre here).” Likewise, writing that’s super-far off the mark is easy to spot.
But that pesky gray area in the middle … what about that?
Lots of questions and no real answers this time around. What are your thoughts?
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2 commentsTales of a Tutor
The past couple of weeks, I’ve been helping a friend’s daughters with a college math course they’re taking over the summer. I’m geeky enough that this is fun, and getting paid is a nice bonus.
While doing so, certain things have struck me more than they might while working with my own students. So I figure, why not share?
Even math teachers don’t remember all the math, all the time. Conic sections … I’ve never actually taught them as a whole topic. I’m fine with circles and parabolas, because those come up regularly on their own. Ellipses and hyperbolas, however, not so much. I remember some general things about them, but not how to find the coordinates of the foci, or how to rewrite an equation to the proper form. Fortunately, all it takes is twenty seconds glancing at the right material in the book.
Math teachers don’t always agree. When tutoring, I almost always come up against something where the way the teacher showed them is bonkers (in my opinion). I try to determine if there’s any good reason to do it that way. If there is, I go along with it. If there isn’t, I try to determine whether the teacher will know or care if the students do it a different way. If not, I’ll show the kids my way, explain how it relates to the teacher’s way, and tell them they can choose whichever they like better.
Math teachers don’t always act rationally. Often these college courses don’t allow the use of calculators. I understand the idea—with some calculators these days, you could solve every problem on the test without engaging more than a couple of your own neurons. But it’s kind of ridiculous when the long division to reduce a fraction takes longer than applying the math concept that’s actually being tested.
And the thing is, I’m sure I’m guilty of all of the above in my own math classes. Somewhere out there a math tutor is saying, “Miss Lewis said that? Is she nuts?”