Creative Craziness

I teach a lot of 9th graders this trimester. We offer a class called probability and statistics 9 and it is open to 9th grade students who also will have had the quadratic portion of algebra 1 this year. I really enjoy this class for multiple reasons. First, it lends itself very well to applying math to real-world scenarios.  Secondly, the hands-on opportunities are endless.
One of the issues I have been committed to improving with my own professional demeanor is the way I deal with 9th grade boys. Nothing brings out my sarcastic, short-tempered, disagreeable side like the antics of freshman boys. There’s something about the decision to play soccer with a recycling bin that just invokes the my inpatient side. Regardless, I need to develop more patience with this demographic. Boys are unique, both in the way that they act and the way that they perceive acceptable behavior. I’m not talking about “I’m bored” acting out. I’m talking about the “I really need to see if this eraser will fit in this kids ear” kind of acting out. I think that my short fuse has more to do with my failure on my part to  fully understand them rather than gross misbehavior on their part. What I’m really trying to grasp here is not “why can’t these kids sit still?” But more “when they can’t sit still, what makes them want to kick a recycle bin around the room or toss magnets at the learning target?” I think if I had a better understanding of what drives those behaviors, I could deal with them more productively. Suggestions?

Class Commences – an hour I won’t soon forget

Recently, Michael Pershan unearthed a Shell Centre gem straight from the 80’s (literally).  This collection of materials is fantastic, and hopefully demonstrates to both students and teachers that engaging in rich tasks and high-level thinking is timeless.

I decided to give the function unit a shot in my Algebra 2 class today.  Some background on this group of students:  there are 38 juniors and seniors, last hour of the day, in a class geared toward lower-level students.   So far though, the only thing that’s been “lower” in this class is the number of empty desks I have.   I handed out this task, gave minimal directions and let them go for a few minutes on their own:

 

from:  Shell Centre for Mathematical Education, University of Nottingham, 1985

from: Shell Centre for Mathematical Education, University of Nottingham, 1985

It was so interesting to watch the different ways each of them started.  Some began with 7, since that was the first you saw when reading the graph from left to right.  Others insisted to work from 1 to 7, identifying the corresponding people along the way.  A few worked the other way around, from the people to the graph.

I walked around to make sure each student was able to get started and that those who thought they had determined a solution also supported their claims.  Then, I wrote the numbers 1 – 7 on the dry-erase board, stepped back, and let these kids amaze me.
One student volunteered an answer, and then handed the marker off to another.  I intervened only briefly to make sure that every student had an opportunity to contribute if he or she wanted.  Once 7 names were completed, I knew a couple of them were out of place.  I sat and said nothing, and this entire class showed me what they are capable of.  Here was a class full of students labeled mathematical underachievers completely nailing SMP #3.  Their arguments were viable, their critiques constructive, their discussion productive.  It bothered a few of them that I wouldn’t let them know if/when they were correct.   But most of them are starting to understand that my main focus here is not the correct answer, but the incredibly rich and interesting process they used on their journey to finding it.  They came up with multiple ways to support their answers and noticed tiny details about the people that supported their findings.  For example, did you notice that Alice is wearing heels? According to my students, that is perhaps why she appears slightly taller than Errol.

I had a heart-to-heart with this group when we were done about how proud I was at how they conducted themselves throughout this task.  I’m really thoroughly looking forward to a fantastic trimester with this special group of kids.  Their work on this task gives both of us the confidence that they can tackle something more difficult next time, and they are capable of mastering high-level mathematics this trimester.

Notice and Wonder with Gusto

My daughter was very content on the airplane ride from Fort Meyers to Minneapolis watching Frozen for the 102nd time.  I took this opportunity to read the Noticing and Wondering chapter of Powerful Problem Solving, the superb new publication from Max Ray and the Math Forum crew.  I took so many notes on this chapter since this is a strategy that I think every teacher can implement, no matter their apprehension about new strategies.  It is such an easy set of questions to ask:  What do you notice?  What does that make you wonder? Those two questions can open up an entire class period of rich discussion and mathematical exploration.  No one explains this classroom strategy better than Annie Fetter of the Math Forum in her Ignite Talk.  (Seriously, if you have not seen this 5 minute, dynamite, game-changing video, stop reading and go there now. ) 

Last Thursday was day 1 of our high school’s third trimester.  The first day of the slide into the end of the year. Regardless, the first day of the trimester always seems like the first day of school: the anticipation of a scenario that’s been played over and over in the minds of teachers and students becomes reality.  For me, this day meant the last hour of the day I would be met with 38 (you read that right) “lower level” Algebra 2 students.  My class is most likely the last high school math class that these juniors and seniors will take, and many of them do not like math or are convinced they are not any good at it.

This class has been in the forefront of my mind most of the year for a lot of reasons.   One of those reasons being that after Jo Boaler’s class this summer, I know that a huge barrier to raising the achievement levels of students in this class is the students’ beliefs that they are capable of doing high level mathematics.  And I also know that a key component to getting these kids to perform better is to give them feedback that allows them to believe that they are capable of it in the first place.

Because of the structure of some of our high school courses, most of these students have not had experience with higher degree graphs, equations, or functions.  They may have seen something similar in their science coursework, but quadratics have not formally been introduced.

I gave them the following graph along with the scenario and let the noticing and wondering begin:  Mrs. Bergman likes to golf and her golf shot can be modeled by the equation: y= -0.0015x(x-280).

A couple of them stuck to non-math related Noticings (the graph is in black and white), but almost all of them noted multiple key characteristics of the equation and/or the graph.  Some highlights:

  • The graph doesn’t have a title and it needs one.
  • Both heights are in yards
  • Horizontal distance goes up by 80.  Height by 5.
  • The peak is in the middle of the graph.
  • The graph is symmetrical
  • The maximum height is about 28 – 29 yards
  • The distance at the maximum height was about 120 yards
  • She hit the ball 280 yards.
  • The number in front of x is negative
  • The graph curves downward
  • It has an increase in height and then a decrease in height.
  • As the ball reaches the peak height, the rate the ball climbs slows.

The list of Wonderings was even more impressive to me. A lot of them wondered things like what kind of club she was using, if the wind was a factor, did she have a golf glove, how much power she used to hit the ball, the brand of her tees, clubs, glove, ball, etc.  Then one student laid out something so profound, it made the entire class stop and and acknowledge the excellent contribution:

“What distance would the ball have traveled if the maximum height were 20 yards rather than 28?” (audible ooo’s here)

After this student said that, the floodgates opened with great questions from others:

  • What was her average height for the shot?
  • What is the maximum height that she is capable of hitting the ball?
  • Is this a typical shot for this golfer?
  • If the maximum height was higher, like 35 yards, how far would she hit the ball?
  • What is the exact maximum height that she hit the ball and how far did she hit it when it reaches that maximum

There were still a few that couldn’t get passed what kind of glove she was wearing or tee she was using, but most of the students stepped up their Wonder Game when one single student demonstrated a rich example.

What I really love about this strategy is that it is so easy to implement into your classroom routine with the resources you already have.  For example, rather than starting with a procedure for solving quadratic equations, simply ask the students what they notice about the structure of the problem.  How is it the same or different from problems they have done recently?  Ask them to list attributes of the equation.  I have found most often, the noticing of one student triggers the noticings of others and the list becomes progressively more sophisticated.

I have heard from some teachers that they do not use try this strategy out of fear of students making a list of trivial noticings (like, the graph is black and white).  They will include those every time; expect it.  But by acknowledging those seemingly trivial items, that student, who would not have dreamt of entering the conversation before now has received validation of his or her contribution to the discussion.  And when students feel heard and their opinions valued, their contributions will start to become more profound.

I’m very proud of this class.  I’m really looking forward to the creative perspective that their noticing and wondering will bring.

Surgery for Function Operations

My college algebra course boasts one of the driest textbooks on the planet. It’s one of those versions that has exercises from 1 to 99 for each section…brutal.   Can you relate?
The topics for college algebra are very standard and cover little more than what students should have encountered recently in their algebra 2 course. I therefore decided that this class would lend itself quite nicely testing out the theory that a high-level, rich question questioning can be facilitated from a traditional, drill-and-kill style textbook.

Previously, I recall that Operations on Functions was a particularly awful topic for both me and my students.  The textbook presents this concept in exactly the way you might think:

f(x) = [expression involving x]  and g(x) = [similar expression involving x]

Find f(x) + g(x), f(x) – g(x), f(g(x), f(x) *g(x), f(x)/g(x)…f(snoozefest)…you get the point.  It’s boring, they’ve done it before, and there’s not much high-level thinking involved.

Fortunately, it’s fixable by asking new questions from the same problems.  For example, have students choose a pair of functions from the book.  We have 99 choices after all!  For example, something quadratic and something linear,  like f(x) = x^2 + 1 and g(x) = 2x+4.

Here come the questions:

  • Which of these function operations are commutative and which are not?  How do you know this?
  • Does this work for all functions, or just the ones that you chose?
  • For what values of x are the non-commutative function operations equal?
  • What do you notice about those values of x for the different operations?
  • Can you prove any of your results?
  • How do the graphs of these new functions compare to the original graphs?

Compositions of functions are the most fun!  Here come some more:

  • For which values of x is f(g(x)) > g(f(x)) for your specific functions?
  •  Do your results hold true if both functions are quadratic?
  • Both linear?
  • How are the graphs of f(g(x)) and g(f(x)) related to both f(x) and g(x)?
  • Don’t forget about f(f(x)) or g(g(x))! How do those relate to our original functions?
  • What about g(g(g(x))) and g(g(g(g(x))))?
  • What do you notice happening each time we compose the function with itself again?
  • Can you generalize your conclusions based on the number of compositions and tell me what g(g(g…g(x)…)) would look like?
  • What do you notice about each of these compositions?
  • What do you notice about their graphs?

A personal favorite of mine is:  If 4x^2 + 16x + 17  =  f(g(x)), what could f(x) and g(x) have been?  This works really well with whiteboards and partners.

I might have students throw out any questions that they find interesting.  In fact, I’ll bet we can come up with at least 99 questions more intriguing than the ones given in the textbook.  Then let them choose which one(s) pique their curiosity.   Now hopefully we’ve taken the time that they would have spend doing 1-99 from a book and turned it into time better spent.

 

 

Pattern Power

If you have little kids and you’ve been privy to an episode of Team Umizoomi, then perhaps the title of this post evoked a little jingle in your head. You’re welcome; I’m here all day.

My daughter, although she doesn’t choose Umizoomi over Mickey Mouse as often as I’d like, picked up on patterns relatively quickly after watching this show a couple of times.  She’s 3 years old, and she finds patterns all over the place.  Mostly color and shape patterns, but a string of alternating letters can usually get her attention as well.  These observations of hers made me realize that pattern seeking is something that is innate and our built-in desire for order seeks it out.

High school students search patterns out as well.  For example, I put the numbers 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 4 so that the custodian knew how many desks should be in each row after it was swept.  It drove students absolutely CRAZY trying to figure out what these numbers meant.  I almost didn’t want to tell them what it really was as I knew they’d be disappointed that it lacked any real mathematical structure.

I’m not as familiar with the elementary and middle school math standards as perhaps I should be, but I’m confident that patterns are almost completely absent from most high school curriculum.  Why are most high school math classes completely devoid of something that is so natural for us?

Dan Meyer tossed out some quotes from David Pimm’s Speaking Mathematically for us to ponder.  This one in particular sheds light on this absence of pattern working in high school mathematics:

Premature symbolization is a common feature of mathematics in schools, and has as much to do with questions of status as with those of need or advantage. (pg. 128)

In other words, we jump to an abstract version of mathematical ideas and see patterns as lacking the “sophistication” that higher-level math is known for.  To be completely honest, this mathematical snobbery is one of the reasons I discounted Visual Patterns at first.  Maybe it was Fawn Nguyen’s charisma that drew me back there, but those patterns have allowed for some pretty powerful interactions in my classroom.   I’ve used them in every class I teach, from remedial mathematics up to college algebra because they are so easy to  differentiate.

I think high school kids can gain a more conceptual understanding of algebraic functions with the use of patterns.  For example, this Nrich task asks students to maximize the area of a pen with a given perimeter.   The students were able to use their pattern-seeking skills to generalize the area of the pen much  more easily than if they had jumped right from the problem context to the abstract formula.  

I also notice that the great high school math textbooks include patterns as a foundation for their algebra curriculum.  For example, Discovering Advanced Algebra begins with recursively defined sequences.  IMP also starts with a unit titled Patterns.   I think these programs highlight what a lot of traditional math curriculums too quickly dismiss:  patterns need to be not only elementary noticings of young math learners but  also valued as an integral part of a rich high school classroom.

Puzzling Perseverance

School mathematics has a bad reputation for being intellectually unattainable and mind-numbingly boring for many students.  Proclaiming the falsity of these beliefs is usually not enough to convince kids (or people in general) of their untruth.  Students need to experience their own success in mathematics and be given the opportunity to engage in curiosity-sparking mathematics.  For me, one of the very best moments in a classroom is when a self-proclaimed math hater fully engages in a challenge and is motivated to work hard to arrive at a solution.

Enter January 2nd and 3rd.  Students are back for a two-day week which they view as punishment and a rude-awakening from a restful winter break.  To boot, the Governor Dayton announced today at about 11 am that all Minnesota schools will close Monday, January 6th due to impending dangerously cold weather.  You can imagine where the motivation level was in school today.

As the CEO of room 114, I decided to make an executive decision and do a puzzle from Nrich (shocking, I know) in my probability and statistics class.  Technically, the students could use the mean or median to help solve the problem, so I wasn’t veering too far off of what I had previously planned.

The Consecutive Seven puzzle starts like this:

IMG_2684 

Initially, one student began by explaining to me that she took one number from the beginning of the set, one from the middle and one from the end.  Then she figured the other consecutive sums needed to be above and below that number.  (Spoiler alert:  These numbers actually end up being the seven consecutive sums, so I was very interested in her explanation of how she arrived at those particular answers.  )

IMG_2668

It’s worth noting that this student’s first words to me at the beginning of the trimester term were, “I hate math and I hate sitting in the front.”  So you can imagine my excitement when she dove in head first into this particular task, happily and correctly.

Adding to my excitement about the class’s progress, another girl (who was equally enthusiastic about math at the beginning of the term) was the first one to arrive at a correct solution.  And although she probably wouldn’t admit it, she was thrilled when I took a picture of her work.  And I am more than thrilled to display it here:

photo 2

If you were wondering about how math-love girl #1 fared in completing the task, she persevered and impressed her skeptical cohorts:

photo 1

This phenomenon fascinates and excites me that students, when confronted with a puzzle, highly engaged and motivated throughout the lesson.  Dan Meyer summarized this idea nicely on his blog recently:

“The “real world” isn’t a guarantee of student engagement. Place your bet, instead, on cultivating a student’s capacity to puzzle and unpuzzle herself. Whether she ends up a poet or a software engineer (and who knows, really) she’ll be well-served by that capacity as an adult and engaged in its pursuit as a child.”

And who knows.  Maybe one of the girls featured above will become a puzzling poet.

Curiosity Driven Mathematics

In my very first years of teaching, I used to have students ask me, in that age-old, cliche teenage fashion, “When are we ever going to use this?”  I vividly remember my response being, “Maybe never.  But there are plenty of other things we do in life, like play video games, that have no real-world application. That doesn’t seem to bother us too much.”

In fact, if every moment of our lives needed to apply to the bigger picture, the REAL-world, when would we do anything for pure enjoyment? or challenge?  or even spite?  I know kids are capable of this because some of them spend hours upon hours a day engaging not only with a video game but also collaborating with other people through their game system.

And furthermore, where do we think this resentment for learning math really comes from?  I have a guess…probably adults who have realized that through the course of their lives, being able to solve a polynomial equation algebraically is not all that useful! News flash, math teachers:  Our secret is out! 

There are many kids across all levels of achievement that will not engage in the learning process simply because the state mandates it or the teacher swears by its real-world relevance.  Students (and arguably people in general) are motivated by immediate consequences and results and cannot easily connect that the algebra they are learning today will be the key to success in the future.  They do not care that if they don’t nail down lines, they’ll never have a prayer understanding quadratics.  If they are bored to death by linear functions, I can’t imagine that they have even an inkling of desire to comprehend the inner workings of a parabola.  

What does resonate with learners is the satisfaction of completing a difficult task, puzzling through a complicated scenario, or engaging in something for pure enjoyment.  Kids are naturally problem-solving balls of curiosity.   There are ways to provoke curiosity and interest while simultaneously engaging in rich mathematics.  I think many teachers assume that in mathematics, especially Algebra, curiosity and deep understanding need to be mutually exclusive, and I’m positive that mindset is dead wrong.  For example, show this card trick to any group of kids, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a group who isn’t trying to figure out how it works.  I also think you’d be hard-pressed to find the real-world relevance to a card trick.  It’s still no less amazing, as well as algebraic.  

 

 

Motivating with a Math Story

I’ve observed over my career that as a high school teacher, 9th graders are amongst the most challenging yet most rewarding groups of students.  Challenging in the sense that they never stop talking or moving, but rewarding nonetheless because of their naivety and innocence. This combination makes engagement and relevance easier to create day to day.  

For example, today in my 9th grade probability and statistics class, I adapted an IMP activity involving sample size and the ratio of mixed nuts.  I literally had these 9th graders believing that I counted all of the nuts in a container of mixed nuts and compared it to a fictitious “nut ratio” from Planters’ website. It’s worth noting that my intention was to tell a story about mixed nuts, but they seemed to believe that this must be true, so I just played along. They think I’m a little crazy for counting the number of nuts in a can, but they were bound to reach that conclusion at some point, nuts or no nuts.  This little “fib” served me very well today as the students now wanted to figure out if I was short-changed on the number of cashews in my can of mixed nuts and whether I had enough evidence here to sue Planter’s Peanuts.  I don’t plan on making up stories of this nature all trimester, but the fact that changing the character in the problem from Mr. Swenson to Mrs. Schmidt played out in my favor was satisfying.

I felt a little guilty having mislead them, however, so I scoured the internet for anything relating to Planters nut ratio.  I found this interesting post about a similar (albeit smaller) bag of mixed nuts. The entire blog was actually pretty intriguing as its entire purpose is to critique gas station food fare.  I’ll probably show this to my students tomorrow just to see where their brains go with it.