Camp Creek Press

Me: How long have you been doing project work?

Dominic: Since I was three.

Me: How do you study a topic by doing a project?

Dominic: Instead of just reading a book, you actually do something with it. Like, when the preschoolers studied space, they didn't just read books about it. They built a rocket ship and helmets. When we were studying frogs, we made a giant frog and we made his joints move the way we learned how their joints move.

Me: So you build models? What other kinds of things do you do?

Dominic: All kinds of things. Also when we were studying frogs, we brought in frogs. We went to see frogs. We studied them.

Now I’m working on my geology project and I’ve been writing down everything I’ve learned and I’m making plans to make it into a book and hopefully sell it for lots of moola.

Me: So, some of the things you’ve mentioned include

- making models

- studying live specimens

- dramatic play

- reading books

- writing books

- taking field trips

Also, when you guys did that frog project, you had an expert come talk to you, right?

Dominic: A professor came from the university and he brought some frogs to show us. One got loose! It was hilarious.

Me: So, tell me about your geology project.

Dominic: Basically, I just get out my journal and a geology book and I read half a page and then write down in my journal what I learned that day. Also, usually most of the pages have pictures and I draw those in my journal, too.

Me: What made you interested in geology in the first place?

Dominic: We were on vacation and we were visiting the Badlands and at one of the tourist centers I got a book on geology and started reading it.

Me: What do you find interesting about geology?

Dominic: A lot of different stuff. It’s just interesting to find out how everything was made and the different processes — how volcanos are made, how rocks are made. What I was reading about yesterday was how a river will go around a convex bend and hit a block of rock and wash that rock away and then the river will slowly migrate sideways.

Me: When you’re done with your geology project, what do you think you might study next?

Dominic: I don't know. I’ll study whatever I think is interesting.

My BFF Emily, who used to teach K-3rd at the TPS, left a great comment on my post Observational drawing: Where do we go from here?. It was so great, I’m going to reproduce it here in its entirety so more people can see it.

I know this comment is after-the-fact for this conversation, but I am a "late reader" and so I'm only seeing this for the first time.

As soon as I read your post, Lori, I knew I *had* to write a comment because I still think about all the wonderful things that happened during our instrument project. Learning the instrument families --- no! Becoming *experts* on instrument families, learning how sounds travels, making the ears, the "Keyboard Controversy," all of it was amazing. It's all become a magical memory for me. One that keeps me motivated to keep trying projects in a public school setting even if it is hard and sometimes frustrating. One that reminds me all that children are capable of --- so much more than I sometimes give them credit for. One that encourages me to challenge kids. One that makes me mourn the loss of that class, and the simple fact that my own son will not ever get to experience that moment with those circumstances. (Although I hope to recreate it for him at home.)

Thank you for giving me another moment to relive that year!

I also wanted to share another story related to the "keyboard controversy." As estea pointed out, the piano is a string instrument, and, of course, we knew that as well, but the PROCESS they took to learn that fact was much more worthwhile for them since they had to discover it on their own. They learned so much more than how to classify a piano. They learned that everything written in books isn't necessarily true, as you mentioned. They learned how to debate. They learned how to make hypotheses and conclusions. (In the end, they decided that a piano was, indeed, a string instrument, BUT an electronic keyboard was a percussion instrument since it doesn't have strings.)

The story I was thinking of happened about that same time. A child in the class became very interested in the Loch Ness Monster. He asked me if it was real, and, of course, I answered, "I don't know. Why don't you try to find out?" So, he did! He checked out books on the subject, interviewed his classmates to see what they thought, and we probably looked online for information too. And then all of sudden, one day, his interest was gone. *Poof!* No more discussions, no questions, nothing. When I asked him about it, he replied, "Oh, I asked my dad what he thought, and he said it wasn't real. So now I know." And just like that, he lost so many valuable learning opportunities.

And now I've rambled for long enough. Thank you again, Lori, for writing about this!

Emily, thank you so much for taking the time to share this.

Wonderful reader Jill asks:

How do you corral the projects?? Do you let them sit out for an indefinite amount of time? When do the projects get thrown away, if ever? I want to encourage creativity, but it bugs me to have all the "pieces" spread out all over the place if making something takes longer than 5 minutes.

As Jill has already discovered, the only thing more beautiful than a basket of garbage is a room full of pieces of garbage taped to other pieces of garbage.

Of course, your child knows that the macaroni box taped to four soup cans is a turtle (or a lunar rover, or a brontosaurus, or a fax machine), and maybe even you know that (if s/he told you), but to everyone else, well, it's a look, yes, but maybe not the look you were going for.

How do you corral the projects? In the classroom, we had shelf space for ongoing projects, and we interspersed shelves filled with beautifully displayed art supplies with shelves filled with garbage, i mean ongoing projects.

At home, I have ongoing projects on top of the bookshelves, scattered across the table, and on the floor. SIGH.

At school, we dealt with ongoing work by sticking a Post-It note on it recording what it was (according to the maker) and their plans for it ("I will paint it", "Add eyes and nose", "Add Steering Wheel", etc.). We would reference those notes when reminding the child of the work they had planned to do and also when asking them if they were finished yet.

At home, with my two students, I don't usually have to put a Post-It on anything, but I do write down in my notebook anything they have planned so I can remind them later and also so I can make sure I get whatever they need from me to finish their project.

(I could never keep track of anything if I didn't have a designated homeschool journal/notebook.)

Do you let them sit out for an indefinite amount of time? Yes. The amount of time I let them sit out is definitely indefinite.

Let's talk ideal situation. Ideally, you are writing down what they are doing along with their requests for additional materials ("I need green and brown paint for the turtle's shell", "I need another soup can for my rover", "I need something silver for the top", etc.), their plans (see above), and their questions ("What goes on top of the rover?", "What does a turtle's tail look like?", "I need to look at the seatbelt in our car"). You use that information to keep things rolling:

"You said you wanted to see what was on top of the rover. Let's look on the internet."

"The green and brown paint you asked for is in the art studio. WEAR A SMOCK."

"Do you want to go look at the seatbelt in the car today?"

and etc. So, things are moving along. A project is done when the child says it is done. However, if it hangs around, the child may decide they want to do something more to it, which is a very good thing. In the classroom, children will copy each other's creations, which is an excellent thing. Child #1 makes something, child #2 copies it and adds something interesting, then child #1 goes back and wants to add it to his as well. It's all about extending the work. If you have more than one child, and they are close enough in age, maybe you can enjoy the same effect.

When do the projects get thrown away, if ever? Basically, things hang around until I'm sure the child is good and completely done with them or until I am convinced they have been completely abandoned or because I am in a bad mood and want the room to be clean.

(Guaranteed, if you throw something away, the child will ask for it the next day.)

(Buy black garbage bags for cleaning the studio. There is nothing like the face of a child who just found his or her beloved art project in the trash.)

I want to encourage creativity, but it bugs me to have all the "pieces" spread out all over the place if making something takes longer than 5 minutes. Ah, I feel for you, Jill. Rome wasn't built in five minutes, however, and neither is a lunar rover made from a macaroni box. It all takes time, and you just have to figure out a way to lessen the effects of helping your child become incredibly intelligent, creative, and expressive.

Designate one shelf for ongoing projects. Make room for two or three things per child and that's it. If they want to make something new, they have to finish their old thing first.

Work with them, however, and facilitate their work by paying attention to what they say they want to do and supporting them (by reminding them of their plans, by giving them requested materials) so they can reach their goal. I repeat, it is all about extending the work. The more often they work on one particular thing, the deeper and more layered the knowledge will be.

When they are finished, help celebrate what they have accomplished. Take pictures of it. Show it to people: family members, friends, delivery people. Make a big deal about it; show them how impressed you are. (Don't be fake about it, though. Be sincere.) Kids see what is important to you and they want to impress you. Your attention is a powerful motivator.

Yesterday, I wrote a little about my older son, the intractable child.

So, how do you work with such a contrary being? He doesn't want you to impose your will; heck, he doesn't even want you to suggest your will. He doesn't want to hear your ideas; in fact, if he hears them from you, he'll draw a big black line through them.

You may start to think, well, fine, he says no to everything. He refuses every suggestion. He shakes his head politely at every offer. He's not going to do anything! He's going nowhere! He had a great idea, but now he's doing nothing with it!

What I've found, however, at least with my intractable child, is that he not only doesn't stand in a corner, like Bartleby, doing nothing, he actually is a relentless learner.

When someone talks about something he doesn't understand or know about, he goes to look it up, or he demands a full explanation. He doesn't want to be ignorant. He wants to understand what's going on.

When he has an interest, the best way I can encourage him isn't to offer books or materials or field trips (things my younger son accepts with a smile). The best thing I can do is ask questions. What are you going to do? How can you find out about that? Is there anything I can do for you?

When we start a first project with the youngest children (three year old's), we start by listing their questions. Then we ask them, How can you find out what you want to know? This leads to brainstorming: We can ask my dad! We can call my grandma! We can look in a book!

We do this because we don't just want to learn facts about birds, or rivers, or outer space. What we really want to learn is how to learn. That is the curriculum that matters. How do we find information? How do we locate and talk to experts? How do we know when our question has been answered?

My son has been doing project work for seven years. He not only knows the process, he demands the process. He insists on being in charge.

So I go back to square one, and I ask the questions. How can you find out what you want to know? What are you going to do? Is there anything I can do to help you?

And even when I step on his toes, and he shuts down an entire line of inquiry because he feels like I got too involved, he doesn't just sit in the corner and do nothing. He just alters his course, smoothly, and keeps moving forward. Because he is a relentless learner.

My ten-year-old has taken our lessons to heart. He is the architect of his own learning. He can learn about anything that interests him. We will provide him with whatever help he requests. (Emphasis on requests.)

If you have ever known a child who reacts to your suggesting a book by saying, automatically, without even thinking about it, "No thanks", you are familiar with this child.

If you have ever suggested to a child an activity that simply reeks of excitement and fun, only to be met with a casual, "Yeah, I don't think so, no thanks", you are familiar with this child.

Now that he is ten, things have improved. I can suggest a book without his immediately saying no. He is reading, and immensely enjoying, Kon-Tiki right now on my recommendation. He is pretty confident now that I won't force him to read a book he doesn't want to read.

Although he still has his doubts.

When he went through a stage of intense interest in Flickr, I pulled out a big pile of Time/Life Photography Series books that I bought years ago at a library sale.

He got very excited about a story about Joseph Pulitzer and how he was the first publisher to include sensationalistic photographs in his newspaper. (This was in the volume "Photojournalism" -- these books were published in 1971, btw.) He was talking a mile a minute and gesturing and laughing. Before he told me the story, however, he paused to say significantly, "I wasn't reading about how cameras work or anything. It wasn't about that." It was like he was saying, "I know why you gave me these books -- I'm onto you -- and I didn't do what you wanted."

The directions he took his interest in -- starting with Flickr -- were places I couldn't have predicted. We talked about art -- what is art, what's not. We talked about how pictures tell a story -- or don't accurately reflect the truth. We talked about geography and places we want to visit.

I eventually realized that to him, Flickr was a toy, and he was playing with it. He was looking it up and down and all around and figuring out what it could do. He was running around the room with it making zooming noises like it was an airplane, then he was walking it across the floor and laughing. He was turning it inside out. He was in discovery mode. He was in the zone -- the flow state -- calm, relaxed, completely plugged in, energetic, and focused.

Anything I did that made it seem like I was dictating what he should do would make him stop in his tracks. I had broken the spell.

Over time, I've become better at how I make my offers of assistance -- emphasizing it's only a suggestion, and he can take it or leave it as he wishes. And he has become better at considering my offers, not always rejecting them out of hand.

The biggest lesson has been mine. I realized that I can't predict where he is headed. It is entirely his own direction, plotted out according to his needs, his interests, his goals. And I don't want to get in the way of that, so I need to hang back and make sure I'm supporting him, but not tripping him up by trying to anticipate where he wants to go. He'll let me know where he wants to go.

Sometimes when I am trying to talk teachers into trying projects, I try to explain how much fun it is.

I had a friend who taught second grade for several years, and she had folders of worksheets and crafts and activities that she would work her way through each year. She wanted to switch to a different grade, because she was a little burnt out on second, but she despaired of how many years it would take her to get back to where she was -- with everything already prepared.

Mmm, preparation. Planning. Getting organized. Knowing what's coming ahead. All considered good qualities in a teacher.

The thing about project-based learning (the way we do it) is that you can't really plan ahead. You have to think on your feet and react to things happening today. Once things are under way, you can look ahead a bit, but you never know if you are correctly anticipating where the project is going to go.

It's more like being a riverboat captain in 1825 than a subway conductor in 2007.

Looking ahead, you attempt to "read" the river, see if you can figure out where the deepest, most fruitful channels lay, try to anticipate what's around the next bend. But there's always an element of unpredictability.

It's an adventure.

This sounds great to someone who's bored with doing the same thing over and over, but it can seem frightening to someone who feels there's safety in folders.

When go into the classroom every morning know what's going to happen (whether you're at school or at home) ... well, that's boring. When you go in every day wondering what's going to happen ... well, that can reawaken a love of learning that has lain dormant in some people for a very long time, whether they're seven or fifty-seven.

Because, it's the same for the kids. When you go into the classroom every morning knowing what's going to happen ... well. And when you don't ... it's fun. It's exciting. It's interesting. And that spark of interest is what makes project-based learning work.

The teachers need only to observe and listen to the children, as they continuously suggest to us what interests them, and what they would like to explore in a deeper way. It is good when the adults' own interests coincide with those of the children, so they can move easily to support children's motivation and pleasure. --- Loris Malaguzzi, The Hundred Languages of Children