I have decided to start my literature review on my narrative story. I am not going to try another genre at the moment. I might go back to this at a later date, but I am interested in getting into the reading and researching for my "Burning Question."
Morgan's Question:
Can artwork integrated with writing help students learn about cultures and how to relate to other people?
My Narrative Story:
The classroom was cold and dark and the light switch in the front corner seemed so far in the distance. Carrie could hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest. This was the first day of school with her sixth grade students. Outside the window, the clouds still touched the horizon and the light was peeking through just barely opening the sky. It was 6:30 in the morning and the school was silent and empty.
“What do I do first, what do I write on the board, will my kids behave?” Carrie mumbled as she opened her book bag and turned on the computer on her desk. “I hope my students like me,” thought Carrie. This day would be pressed in her memory forever.
Six months earlier Carrie walked across the stage at graduation from Tarleton State University. She earned her degree in Teaching. Her class grades came easy to her because education was her passion and relevant to her goals in her own life. Carrie played school when she was in elementary lining up her stuffed animals along her bed and teaching to them out loud. Her big, fluffy green chair in the corner was the “bad chair” for discipline problems, which she rarely had to use because her students were always on task and following directions.
Carrie closed her eyes so tightly she felt like they may pop out of her head. Thoughts ran through her mind about the moment the bell rings and the students come into the classroom and find their seats. Quickly, she opened her eyes and stared at the clock hanging on the wall, the monotone tick-tock was getting louder and louder echoing in her ears. The bell was going to ring in 5 minutes. Carrie rushed around the room making sure the desks were arranged perfectly, grabbed her cards for seating the students and rushed out the door into the hallway.
RING! The bell rang and Carrie began to smile as the students filled the desolate hallway with laughter and footsteps. Students of all colors, sizes, shapes, and ethnicities raced by her giggling and chatting rapidly. As the students grouped outside her classroom #207 she could already see who was friends by the cluster groups forming in circles. In addition, she could tell who was alone or not group oriented. Carrie handed out the number cards and the students quickly found their seats with the matching number. Standing at the front of the room, Carrie called for attention and began speaking loudly and clearly watching the students’ faces. Sweat began poring profusely out of her pores and she could feel her wet armpits sticking to her hot pink v-neck shirt. She stayed up the night before picking out the perfect outfit to compliment her dark hair and light skin. She continued to speak about rules and procedures and noticed some students staring off into space and rolling their eyes. “Oh no, the kids are drifting off and not listening, how do I get them back, snap out of it,” Carrie thought. She decided to have the students get up and move around the room so she handed out the first ice-breaker activity where they fill in the “who done it” list from the students in the classroom. As the students paced around the room trying to get student signatures to fill up the sheet, Carrie glanced at the lesson plan book making sure she was covering all of her list of items on the first day agenda. She looked at the clock on the wall and noticed she still had one hour left of class, but her list was almost checked off for the first class period. “What am I going to do the last hour, how am I going to keep the students on task, should I dig through my files for more activities,” questioned Carrie.
Ten more minutes had passed and Carrie begin to remember her college classes and what she was taught about keeping the students attention and lesson planning. However, she could not recall how she would feel the first day of school and how the students would act or react to her activities. First block ended and the second class entered the same way as the first group of students.
The next two class periods repeated the same schedule. Second block students seemed to be more comfortable and chatted intently as they entered the room in large herds. Carrie began her speech she had recited at least four times in front of her own mirror at home that morning before school started. She was telling the students about the classroom rules when one of the students in the back corner started making noises under his hand that was cupped over his mouth. She stopped abruptly and gazed around the room trying to figure out who was being so rude and disrespectful and her eyes halted on one student sitting in the back corner that was slouched down in his chair. His hair was falling in his dark eyes, mud covered his old, tattered sneakers and his worn shirt had holes ripped along the edges and hung down to his yellow and green, grass-stained jeans. Carrie asked his name and if he had a comment he wanted to make aloud to the class. “Jake is my name and I have nothing to say to you,” he bolted rudely. “Thank you, then I will go back to my class rules,” stated Carrie. About 20 minutes later, Carrie asked the students to draw a picture of the most important thing to them in their own lives or culture on the paper. She handed out the crisp blank paper to each student and a box of crayons. Carrie walked around the room and looked over the shoulders of each student to examine their artwork pieces. She could tell right away who were the art students and who lacked this interest, but tried hard to sketch a picture or object. About 30 minutes later, Carrie collected the pictures and comments from each student. She placed them on her desk in the corner and continued her first day activities.
Carrie looked at the clock and it was five minutes until the end of the day. “Wow, this day flew by and I am still standing and survived my first day of school,” Carrie mumbled under her breath. RING! The bell rang and the students filled the quiet hallways again and raced down the stairs to the long line of yellow buses in the front of the school. Carrie peered out the window and watched the student’s crowd into packs outside the buses. The load roar of the engines filtered off in the distance and the exhaust left black clouds of smoke as the buses pulled out of the gray, concrete parking lot.
Carrie melted into her black, leather chair and let out a huge sigh of relief to finish her first day of her new career. She shuffled through the stack of pictures from her students that day and noticed the variety of artwork and comments made. She could tell this group of students were diverse and came from cultures all around the world. The picture that would stay with Carrie for years to come was by Jake. The student who had nothing to say to her as he was making noises in the back row in second block. His picture was so powerful, yet simple. The woman he drew had long, dark locks of curls hanging to her thin waist. Flowers covered her dress that touched her knees and her bare feet were sinking in the sand along some beautiful beach. Her small, delicate hands wrapped around a bouquet of lilies and her face seemed young and perfect. The only thing missing was a smile on her face. As Carrie looked closer she noticed a tear streaming down her soft, right cheekbone. This single, solid tear seemed to draw her closer into the picture of this woman. Carrie wondered, “Who was this person and why is she so important to Jake?” “What does this tear mean and why is she alone on a beach?” This picture has meaning to Jake and Carrie has to figure out why and how to relate to him. Carrie does not come from the same culture as Jake, but she has to teach all the different cultures of the world to her students this year. The rest of the pictures lay on her desk stacked in a pile of imagination, dreams, experiences, and cultures. It is her job to take all of these pictures and make them reality for her students. This day would be pressed in her memory forever as her first day of school, her first day of her career, and her first day of her dream, to teach children.
Artwork - very interesting aspect of Social Studies. Do you have an extensive supply of art from the different cultures you teach? You probably could use an art teacher as a resource; or, maybe you can use UTA while you're a student?
Sounds very interesting! How are you going to collect your data? (What instruments will you use?)
Well, I have not thought about the data collection yet. I guess I can use an Art teacher for a resource and use students' art about the different cultures for data collection. Thanks for the questions to get my mind rolling.