Teaching Tip Tuesday: Put Some Stank on It

Cough cough…sputter….sputter…what’s this? Ah yes, the return of Teaching Tip Tuesday!* For those just joining, this is a chance for all you lovely people to submit a link to your blog postings that you think will help teachers and parents and mental health professionals work better with children.

Today’s example comes from when I joined a Hip Hop dance performing troupe a few years ago.** I was super stressed out from my job, and needed an outlet. What better way to relieve stress than to exercise and challenge myself to use an unused part of my brain? I was so focused on trying to coordinate complex moves, get over my fear of looking like a lame white girl with no rhythm, and meet a new group of people. And that was just what I needed. For a few hours a week, I didn’t think about how there were way too many kids on my caseload, way too many crises, and not enough time to do my job as a school psychologist in my urban public schools.

I have a dance background. I was one of those kids who took tap, jazz, ballet, funk, hip hop, cheerleading, circus (really), and gymnastics and wanted more. I hadn’t danced in a while though, and somehow I suspected that the “robot” was no longer cool in hip hop.*** Anyhoo, I auditioned and made the team as an “alternate” meaning I could train with these professional dancers.

I worked my a** off trying to keep up, lost 15 pounds in the process, and then totally hit a wall and was not progressing. I even got the “Most Improved!” award, which we in education all know means “You suck just a little less than just a month ago!” We had these “Feedback” sessions in which you would perform in front of the other members of the troupe and each person would tell you what you were doing well and what you needed to work on. Well, after performing a classic piece to E-40, the head dancer gave me the following feedback:

“You’re a good dancer, but you need to put some stank on it.”

Right. Some stank. I’ll get right on th…wait? What?

The feedback was clearly not specific enough for me to do anything with it. Did she mean my facial expressions should be more stanky? Should I hit the moves harder? Lower? Faster? Not shower? WHAT?

And this is the problem with general feedback. Students don’t know what to do with it. When I was at Berkeley, my advisor once told me, “This is the worst dissertation prospectus I’ve ever seen in my 30 years at Berkeley”. NOT HELPFUL. Now if she said, “I am concerned about your Methods section and we need to rework your statistical analyses,” I would have known what to do. So as you go about your day working with kids, remember that specific feedback (and specific praise, for that matter) are much more useful for getting a kid to change his or her behavior. Even “Good job” or worse yet, “Good boy!” is far less helpful than “I like how you used a topic sentence.” Then the kid knows what was good about the performance.

And here’s the fun part. Good, specific feedback alone can change behavior. It’s like those speed monitors they sometimes put on roads where people speed, that let you know you are going 37 miles per hour in a 25 mile hour zone. What is your instinct when you get that specific feedback? You slow down. Now imagine it said, “You’re doing it wrong!” You wouldn’t know what to do.

One final point: always try to sandwich negative feedback in between two layers of positive feedback. If I were that head dancer, I could have said:

I like how you made a stanky face when you hit that move so hard. Now I want you to take that same attitude during other moves, because you look like a cheerleader. Don’t hit the moves so stiffly, loosen up.

Now that’s good feedback.


*I know it’s Wednesday. Shhhhhhhh.
**Perfectly normal thing to do.
***It actually has made quite the comeback. I could have been the first to revive the retro coolness of it.

Crisis Management

I promise we will return to our regularly-scheduled blog about education, psychology, and all my little friends in the public schools after this last wedding post. I'm back from the most amazing wedding and honeymoon, and have been sloooooowly returning to civilian life. It's weird, at work, no one wants to hug me, take my photo, tell me how beautiful I look, and give me a gift for being in love, like at the wedding. Weird.

I am compelled to write one last post about the wedding, especially since the last one gave the impression that it was all smooth sailing. And as my kids say, I'm keeping it real. So, you know those shows where the bride freaks out over a miniscule detail and you roll your eyes at how lame she is? Well, I finally get it. I was that bride for a moment. I am somewhat ashamed to admit this, since my work as a school psychologist should have MORE than prepared me for any wedding crisis, great or small. In my work in urban public schools, I have dealt with the following crises:

-Female teacher being arrested for sleeping with one of my 8th grade students
-Drive-by shooting of school
-Police shoot-outs in front of school yard of students
-Multiple bomb threats (by PARENTS of the school, mind you)
-Stray cat population with ringworm invading school on state testing day
-And so much more...

So one would think I could handle an itty-bitty wedding crisis. Especially since I was Bride-chilla), right?

Well the problem was, I didn't take the advice that I usually give out to others about not taking on too many things at once. So in addition to planning a 3-day destination wedding, I also foolishly selected the weekend before said blessed event to take the final board certification exam to be a clinical psychologist. This is essentially the Bar Exam for psychologists, which is the final, final, little flag we have to plant on our mountainous journey from Educational Psychologist (specializing in school-related problems) to Clinical Psychologist (specializing in any problem, for any age). And if I didn't pass the exam, I would have to wait another 6 months to take it. No pressure. The good news is, I passed! Then, I had the rest of my week to simply run around town doing everything else for the wedding. I was in good shape. Or so I thought.

Three days before the wedding, I went to the bridal store to pick up my gorgeous gown, on the way to picking up the rings, meeting fiance for final dance lesson, and packing for the wedding and honeymoon. I was on a military-precision time-line. Picking up the dress was the fun part! And yet, when they opened up the bag to show me my dress, I had my one and only bridal melt-down, Bridezilla-style.

There was a spot on my dress.

I know, not that big of a deal, right? WRONG. I apparently hadn't been following my own advice and had been bottling up all my stress, because I just burst into tears.* The bridal staff moved into Defcon 2 mode and started talking into their wrists all secret-service style, "Um, we got a 210 in progress--crying bride. Go! Go! Go!" They mobilized the platoon of staff around me and the dress, got out the tissues and the haz-mat-style gloves and began the inspection as I sobbed. Every solution they offered was not acceptable. They offered to try to get it out further, but there was no guarantee that it wouldn't make it worse. They offered to try to sew a fold over the spot in a way that fit the style, but that would have taken time and potentially gone horribly wrong. I said, sarcastically through tears, "why don't we just iron on a jean-patch on my designer dress if we're going to do that!" Keep in mind, this was a minuscule little spot, but all my stress morphed into that spot, staring at me with it's .01% imperfection. Sure, 99.99% of everything else was going well, but I couldn't mobilize my crisis management skills and left the shop in tears.

I managed to get to my dance lesson and collapsed into fiance's arms, but when I started telling my story of trauma, it became clear that it wasn't about the spot. It was about dealing with imperfection on a day that I wanted to be perfect. On the actual day, I couldn't even really find the spot again, perhaps it was a stress mirage. In any event, I survived the great spot crisis of 2009, and the wedding went perfectly. I can't even put into words how amazing it felt to see all the hard work pay off into a beautiful day of love and happiness with friends and family. Okay, maybe I can put it into words, but no without sounding like a big cheezeball. And for future brides, or anyone going through several life transitions at a time, do as I say, and not as I do:

1) Rely on your friends and family. Delegate the things you don't really need to be doing yourself. It's hard if you tend toward perfectionism. But trust me, you can't do it all yourself.

2) Remember, at the end of the day, no one will remember if you had roses or tulips, or the small details. They'll remember how happy you were to be getting married. Say to yourself, "All I need is an officiant and my partner, the rest doesn't matter." And as my friend said, "And if the officiant doesn't show up, I'm sure someone can get their internet reverend credentials on their iPhones real quick."

3) Don't put too much on your plate at once. Confucius once said, "You cannot go in all directions at once." Smart guy.

4) Helping professionals: don't be afraid to be HELPED. People like to help. You like to help, right? So do others.

5) Express your stress and continue to utilize your coping skills during stressful times, especially exercise. Even if it is a 20 minute walk. You'll tell yourself you don't have time. C'mon. You have 20 minutes.

6) Elope. Just kidding.


*It reminds me of the first time I cried at work. My principal had never seen me lose it before and she was so surprised and didn't know what to do. My fellow counselor friend just clapped her hands and squealed, "Yea! She's human!" If you want to be a school psychologist, be prepared to check your perfectionism at the door. It's a messy field. Took me YEARS to figure that out. Years.

Bride-chilla

For those of you expecting a post about education, mental health, or the yoots today, sorry, I have Wedding Tourette's Syndrome. You get wedding.*

It is my spring break. I am so delighted to be spending it at the tailor’s every day. I have been to two different tailors for dress fittings NINE times this week. Nine times.** See, it is my own fault, because in addition to my wedding dress, I wanted a vintage 1950s cocktail dress for the rehearsal dinner. So I found this fabulous dress and thought, “I’ll just get it tailored” and it ended up being the most complicated process ever. I went to my favorite Russian tailor for my sixth fitting yesterday, and the following is an actual transcript of events that transpired:

Russian Tailor (in thick sing-songy accent): Dah-ling. I need to fix. This not right. I take out all lining and fix. Why not? It free country, riiiiigght? I fix. I was to fix yesterday, but had fever of four huuuuundred degree. You understand, dah-ling? Yes?

RB: (surprisingly patient) Yes, but I am leaving in a few days and am hoping to get this done soon. I trust you though. I want it to look right.

RT: You so calm! What do you do, dah-ling? For living?

RB: I’m a school psychologist in [names urban city that makes most recoil in fear]

RT: AHHH!! What age?

RB: Age 11-14.

RT: That worst age! They ripe. How to say? They like ripe fruit….rotten.

RB: Um, I guess they are ripe in a sense, because they are ripe for intervention at that age because they are in between kids and teens.

RT: No. They rotten. No wonder you so caaaaaalm about dress. You so caaaaalm because job so hard. Now I poke you to get reaction about dress. [Pokes me with pin] I poke you now! Ha ha ha!

RB: Um, ow.

RT: There. You have reaction!

So apparently, my job has made me somewhat unflappable when it comes to not sweating the little stuff. I guess when you are faced with true crises every day, a dress debacle is not really a crisis.

OR IS IT?

Stay tuned for Dress, Part II. Because you have no choice. It’s my blog.


*We will return to our regularly scheduled blogs about education and psychology soon, as I am a mere EIGHT days away from being in marital bliss!

**You must say it like they do in Ferris Buehler’s Day Off, when Ferris is “absent” nine times and the principal’s voice echoes, “Niiiiine Timessss.”

What I Have Learned about Executive Functioning From Planning My Wedding

I have contracted a mild to severe case of Wedding Tourette’s Syndrome (WTS), in which I blurt out wedding details without realizing I’m doing it. There are also side effects of executive functioning deficits.

I’m not sure if anyone has noticed, but I have not been regularly posting as of late. I was a 2-3 time a weeker, and now have dwindled to 2-3 per month. The short excuse is that I have 43 days until my destination wedding. Whose counting though? So with apologies to those who come here to read about the yoots of today or other topical discussions, and are getting wedding stuff, welcome to my world. With my newly developed case of WTS, all conversations lead to wedding talk. You’re no exception.

Fiancé: How was your day?
Me: (Litany of all wedding tasks completed, in reference to next 43 days)

Postman: Good afternoon.
Me: Any response cards today??? Because my wedding is in 43 days.

Car Mechanic: How are you?
Me: My wedding is in 43 days!

Coffee Barista: Room for cream?
Me: Should I do my linens in cream??? I only have 43 days.

When I first got engaged, I though I would be the most relaxed bride on the planet. They would need a new name for me, like BrideChilla.* I mean, I am ORGANZED. I am a PLANNER. I love Excel and To-do lists. When Forest Gump said that life is like a box of chocolates because you never know what you’re going to get, I thought, “Not if you buy those chocolates with the labels on them and you can pick what order you eat them, crappy ones first, and save the best for last to create the best aftertaste.”

And then, I started planning. It came in bursts of organization and despair. There have been tears and elation. There has been much “it’s going to work out!” pep talks from fiancé. So in an attempt to actually make this post about something related to learning, here’s what I have learned about my own executive functioning skills the past year of planning. I provide it in the same format that I provide for parents and teachers, and then mock myself.

1) Break down big projects into manageable tasks!
Great idea! I will write down all the subtasks of planning a wedding, with “due dates”. Then, I will have a panic attack at all the things I have to do. After said panic attack, I will pick only one thing to do per day, starting with the most important (e.g. picking a date). Then picking a date became contingent upon location, which became contingent upon a date, which became contingent on where our guests are coming from, which became contingent upon who was invited, which became contingent upon our budget, which is contingent upon location. AAAAARRRGG!

Learning point: Big projects are not always as linear as they seem. Sometimes, you have to do a little bit of each task instead of one big discrete task. It's less satisfying in some ways, because you can't ever seem to cross off the item on your to-do list. So I changed my to-do list from "Obtain Caterer" to "work on catering for 30 minutes" so I could cross something off.

2) Reward successive approximations toward big goals
Great advice. So when I finish a baby task, then I get a reward. I like it! Usually, this worked out well, because finishing the task and crossing it off my to-do list was rewarding. Problem is, sometimes my “done” tasks morphed back into “to do” tasks when all hell broke loose. For example, our caterer/event planner didn’t call me back for 6 weeks, so we FLEW to the destination to meet him and he cancelled on us that morning by saying, “I can’t make it, I have low blood sugar.” WHAT? Eat a banana and get you’re a** over here! What happens if you have low blood sugar on our wedding day? So our major item we had “done” had to be scrapped and done again.

Learning point:Stay positive. At least I found out about the guy’s poor coping skills before the wedding date. Keep the big picture in mind. We still had time to find a new caterer, and the one we got is awesome and does not have Hypoglycemia. And, his sister does flowers and his brother does music. It turned out better in the end that Sir Flakes-a-Lot did not come through for us.

3) Enlist help when you feel overwhelmed with planning or executing tasks.
This is actually the most decent advice I’ve doled out, and I practice it regularly with my students. Ever notice it’s easier to motivate yourself to do something when you have a wingman or wingwoman? That’s because when you are low on energy, the other person can encourage you, or do part of the task with you, so it’s not so daunting. For a while, I was trying to do everything on my own, with stubborn pride at how organized I am, and then other important non-wedding things fell off the radar (e.g. friends, blog, exercise). I would secretly look at my wedding to-do list and be paralyzed because it was so overwhelming. I finally admitted to fiancé that organizing by myself was fun at first, but was becoming too much. Loving fiancé, who was already greatly involved in the to-do list, volunteered to take over all things music, transportation, food, and honeymoon. Great bridesmaid offered to be the delegate of all things cake, and groomsman is now our delegate of all things audio-visual.

Learning Point: Always have at least one cheerleader, and a platoon of super-delegates when you can’t do it on your own. Know your limitations. Share your box of chocolates with friends, and maybe, just maybe, be a rebel and try a mystery chocolate out of order. You just might like it. And if you don't, at least you can ask your friend to pass you one they think might be a caramel.

*Wait, did I tell you my wedding is in 43 days?

A Day in the Life of a School Psychologist

I get several emails a week from readers wanting to know if a career in school psychology is right for them. I can only speak to my experiences in large, urban school districts, but I am always happy to tell them the good, bad, and ugly. Sometimes, my candor sends them running for the hills, and sometimes, they can't wait to apply to grad school to get started. So go ahead, peek into a day in the life of my job and decide for yourself...

I arrive at my middle school campus today at 8:00am, armed with coffee, water bottle, lunch bag, bag of testing materials, my laptop, and a bag of toys. I greet the secretary in Spanish (she’s my own private language tutor) and grab a bunch of little notes out of my mailbox marked, “Dr. Bell, School Psychologist.” As I re-shuffled the weight of my zillion bags o’ stuff, a group of middle school girls came in the office. They were so cute and middleschooly awkward, and I smile and greet them. They give me the “I’m too cool to say hi to adults half-smile and squinty eye” and as I walk away, I overhear them:

Girl 1: Who was that?
Girl 2: Dr. Bell.
Girl 1: What does she do?
Girl 2: I don’t know exactly. All I know is that she LOVES kids.

That is the best job description ever. That is what I do. That is why I carry a zillion bags to 3 different schools every week. I am a school psychologist. Here is my day.

8:00am: Aforementioned shuffling of bags and lesson in middle school conceptualization of what I do.

8:05am: Accosted in hallway by vice principal. We walk and talk as I head to my little office in the back of the auditorium. It’s a State-of-the-Union address, middle-school style. Franklin needs a check in because he got into a fight. D’Andre is doing better in class. Cherie’s teacher wants to check in about reading difficulties. A teacher is out today. Karen’s mom wants me to call her about grief counseling. Special education meeting this afternoon for Kevin. Got it.

8:10am: Throw everything in office and read through mailbox notes. More of the same:
“Do you have any strategies for anger management for Michael?” “Can you check in with Erin? She seems sad.” “Dr. So-and-So called and wants to talk with you about whether you think T.J. has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.” “Is D’Andre doing his behavior chart?” “Padres Unidos meeting tonight at 6. Can you come?”

8:15am: Deep breath. Organize and prioritize! Review new items and existing list of students I had planned on testing and seeing for counseling today. Testing must be done today. I have to figure out why three of my students are failing. Learning disability? Emotional problem? Behavioral problem? Poor instruction? Bad attendance? Doesn’t understand English? Low ability? Peer difficulties? Do they need special education to be successful or can they make it in the general class with help? I am a detective gathering clues every day.

8:20am: Call parents back. Leave messages.

8:30am: Coffee now in bloodstream. Ready to go. Deliver “Talent Group” passes to 6th grade girls for counseling group that will occur after lunch. Squeals ensue. As I leave classroom, another girl yells, “I’m talented too! Take me!!!”

8:35: Back to office to regroup. Set up testing materials: one IQ test, drawing paper, stopwatch, pencils, sundry other tests of how kids learn best (listening? looking? doing?) and behavior rating scales for teachers, parents, and student.

8:40: Enter classroom to get Devin to “work with me for a while.” Kid bounds out of chair and then asks, “Wait, am I in trouble?” Assured he is not, just that his mom wanted me to test him to see how he learns best and what we can do to make school easier and more fun for him. He takes the bait.

9:00: Give tests of problem solving with visual aids, language-based reasoning tasks, memory tests, and drawing tests. Student is very compliant and seems to enjoy testing, once he is assured it was not for a grade, but to see how he solves new problems on his own. At end of testing, student reports that testing “wasn’t so bad.” Agree to meet again next week to finish up.

10:30: First counseling kid of the day. He’s a 7th grade boy who just got in a fight. Head hung low, he joins me in my office. He lights up when he sees the game of Uno. We play what may be our 100th game of Uno this year. After we finish, he sheepishly looks up at me and admits, “Dr. Bell. I was bad yesterday.” We talk.

11:30: Next counseling kid. She’s an 8th grade girl having family problems. He sister is in a gang, and she is afraid for her. We draw together. She is chatty and open. This is my second year with her. After we play what may be our 400th game of Mancala, she earnestly asks, “Did you have to go to college to do this job? Because it seems like playing Mancala isn’t that hard.” I privately reflect on how yes, I did go to college and grad school, and yes, I do get paid to play around on the job.

12:30: Call from other school I work at, located down the street. Student with major truancy issues is there today! Given I have been trying to test Caroline to see what is causing her to hate school so much, I tell the principal I’ll be right there. Grab my lunch bag for a meal on the go. Pop head into office and exclaim, “Tengo que irme a…my other school!” As I fly down the hall, secretary yells, “My other school is ‘mi otra escuela!” Yes, that’s right. Dang it. I knew that one.

12:32: Finished with lunch and get in car. Yeah, that’s right, I shoved a sandwich in my face in two minutes. Over the years, I’ve learned how to multitask. I’ve even managed to break up a faux knife fight while eating in the teacher’s lounge.

12:35: Arrive at high school. Observe Caroline socializing happily with boyfriend. The bell rings, and she makes her way to class. I intercept her. She agrees to come with me in lieu of chemistry class. Not a tough sell on that one.

1:15: Caroline reveals that she skips school because she feels dumb and “doesn’t ever get it.” She came today because she missed her friends. She agrees to continue testing to see why school is so hard. She becomes curious and engaged in my tests. I wish I could stay and test her all day. But my Girls Talent Group is starting in 15 minutes. I cross my fingers and hope she comes back tomorrow.

1:30: Back to middle school. Girls are eagerly waiting by the door. Today, we have to decide who we will invite to the end of the year talent show. Fight ensues over whether or not to invite Alejandra, who is friends with one girl, and enemies with the other. One hour of tears, yelling, more tears, storming out, storming back in, and talking yield to agreements and hugs all around. For now.

2:28: Back to my office. Jose is at my door, waiting for his 2:30 counseling. He wants to play basketball today. I glance down at my high heel shoes and think of that Easy Spirit commercial in which a group of women’s high heels are so comfy that they can play basketball in them. These are not those type of shoes, because those shoes are ugly and I would never buy them. We compromise and talk as we do free shots together. He talks about being bullied and his fear that his dad will be deported.

3:30: Score Devin and Caroline’s testing. Devin is above average in all areas. Caroline’s profile looks like she may have a Reading Disability. Further testing is needed to see why Devin is failing despite having the ability, and at what grade level Caroline is reading so we can target interventions.

3:45: Review my report I wrote on my testing last week for Kevin for meeting in 15 minutes. Kevin is a bright 6th grade student who is not completing any work in English, and has an A in Math. He is a sweet boy who sometimes shuts down and sulks when given a writing assignment.

4:00: Individual Education Plan (IEP) meeting for Kevin starts. Teachers, mom, principal, me, and Kevin are attending. We go over Kevin’s strengths. I present how Kevin learns best and what is getting in the way of his learning. His mom and teacher ask questions about how to help him. I make sure Kevin understands how he learns best and why school is hard for him. He has a visual-motor processing problem. I explain that he is like an awesome, super-fast processing computer, only his printer is a little slower than other kids. He smiles. I can tell he gets it.

4:45: Go back to office and grab my one million bags and pack up. I walk by the hip-hop dance club doing their thing and I see my shyest student dancing her heart out. I walk by the school garden, and see two of the talent group girls chatting and laughing. I smile to myself. Then, I see two of my boys I see for counseling fighting in the hall and saying unspeakable things about each other’s mamas. I drop my bags and decide to stay a bit longer. Why? Because like the girls said this morning, I love kids.

Dear Me, I Love Me

Ah Valentine’s Day. How you sneak up on me every year and how you make my life so interesting. Working in a middle school, I have seen so much drama this week, all centered on Valentine’s Day. Will he send her a flower? Will her ex- come back with a grand gesture? Will the boys and girls actually dance at the Valentine’s Dance tomorrow, or stand by gender against the walls? I just can’t wait to find out.

In elementary schools, I so enjoy the art projects that come around this time of year. I think there is nothing more precious than a giant glittery slightly deformed (and thus more anatomically accurate) heart valentine made out of construction paper. Priceless.

My favorite though, is a comment that was made by one of my students at a high school for students with emotional disturbances. This young man has come so far in his behavior and controlling his emotions, that our team was thinking he might be ready for "mainstreaming," which is a chance to learn with non-disabled peers. The teacher was asking him when he thought he might be ready to join a sports team and work together with the team appropriately (turns out, kids with emotional disturbances aren’t the best sportsmen sometimes. Who knew?). So teacher asks him when he would be ready and he said, definitively, “I will be ready to be a good sportsman on February 14th.” She asked, “why the 14th?” and he said, “So I can be my own Valentine!” His logic wasn’t so bad, actually. Why not be your own Valentine and love yourself enough to do something great for yourself?

I wonder if it’s too California-hippy-love-fest to make my counseling students make Valentines for themselves tomorrow...It could be really cool or really super lame. Discuss.

Teaching Tip Tuesday: Dealing with Why-ners

What is a sound more grating than fingernails on a chalkboard? The sound of a small child or teen saying, “Whyyyyyyyy do we have to learrrrrrrrn this?” Chances are, they will not take favorably to “Because No Child Left Behind has mandated us to teach this content standard this year!” One sure-fire way for teachers reduce why-ning is to make activities more meaningful and relevant for kids. Of course, there are some subjects that are easier to link to their prior knowledge, experiences, and lives, but every teacher should have in his or her toolkit some ways to make learning relevant. Personal meaning increases motivation and compliance in the classroom.

So, this week, go on and submit your tricks this Teaching Tip Tuesday on how you make boring, mandated, or somewhat difficult to make relevant material more meaningful.

Now I am not a teacher, but I have several fantasies for what this could look like in the classroom. One fantasy I have is for social studies and/or history teachers. Go on, try it out and let me know if the kids liked it. Sometimes I wish I had my own classroom…but I do not, so let me live vicariously through you!

Here’s the pitch.

I have worked with so many students with learning disabilities, low achievement motivation, emotional and behavioral problems who absolutely light up when they talk about MySpace.* So instead of fighting it, I say roll with it. History teachers could make each student pick a historical figure from the time period they are studying and the kid has to make a MySpace page for that figure. So if a kid picked Abraham Lincoln, then s/he could research his interests, what he might say on his profile, what groups he may have joined (Free the Slaves!), who he would have been friends with, and who he may have blocked from being his friend (Oh! If he’d only blocked John Wilkes Booth!).

Social studies teachers could have kids pick current event figures, like, oh, I don’t know, Barack Obama? Would he “friend” John McCain? Why or why not? What would his “status updates” look like?

11:02am Barack is…trying to pass the stimulus package

11:04am Barack is….soooo frustrated!

Or English teachers could have kids pick characters in the book they want to be! How fun would that be to see kids get excited about being a character in Shakespeare or in Faulkner's As I Lay Dying? Ooh! Ooh! I want to be King Lear!

I think it would be super fun for the kids and it would be a way to make history, current events, and old novels relevant to them. Now I realize that most schools block MySpace from their internet options.** So you might have them draw a home page on a piece of paper, or better yet, a giant posterboard to put up in the classroom. Then historical figures would be able to interact by writing down friend requests, joining each other’s groups, and blocking each other. You might do an example first to model for them what it might look like.

Let me know if you try it out, and if you hear any Why-ning!

*I have a love/hate relationship with MySpace. Yea!: social connectedness, learning computer skills, opportunities for social skills training, cyber-style. Boo!: cyber bullying, poor boundaries, inappropriate postings (by teachers and students alike). In general, I am against teachers and school staff having a MySpace page that kids can find (boundaries, people). I overheard a kid in the hallway say to a teacher, “I found you on MySpace! I saw your boyfriend! What are you doing on MySpace old lady???” P.S. She’s all of 22 years old.

**Not that they can't get around the blocks in 2.2 seconds...