When my kids were little, we used to watch an animated skit on Sesame Street that was accompanied by a catchy tune I have never forgotten. The song ended "It's where you put your eyes. That's about the size of it!" As I remember, the cartoon alternately pictured ants and an elephant. The educational goal was to teach children about perspective--things look small or large depending on "where you put your eyes." And so it is today, as the new semester looms, and I return to the classroom after so many months away, that I am thinking about where I'm putting my eyes. On the one hand, the return feels like a narrowing--moving from task to task each day in response to others' needs and schedules, rather than the freedom to choose I have had for so many weeks. Lobster-like, I lumber ever closer to the baited cage. And yet. The trap has holes at both ends, with an available view of other, equally interesting worlds. And then, there is the bait. The promise of intellectual work undertaken in the company of bright people. The camaraderie of colleagues. New discoveries, new possibilities. Tasty. Seductive. I'll bite.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Where You Put Your Eyes
When my kids were little, we used to watch an animated skit on Sesame Street that was accompanied by a catchy tune I have never forgotten. The song ended "It's where you put your eyes. That's about the size of it!" As I remember, the cartoon alternately pictured ants and an elephant. The educational goal was to teach children about perspective--things look small or large depending on "where you put your eyes." And so it is today, as the new semester looms, and I return to the classroom after so many months away, that I am thinking about where I'm putting my eyes. On the one hand, the return feels like a narrowing--moving from task to task each day in response to others' needs and schedules, rather than the freedom to choose I have had for so many weeks. Lobster-like, I lumber ever closer to the baited cage. And yet. The trap has holes at both ends, with an available view of other, equally interesting worlds. And then, there is the bait. The promise of intellectual work undertaken in the company of bright people. The camaraderie of colleagues. New discoveries, new possibilities. Tasty. Seductive. I'll bite.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Curran Dobson writes a thoughtful piece in the Wilkes U Beacon on the use of handheld devices in the classroom. I wonder, as she does, what sort of knowledge are we constructing here?
After the snowfall
The sun slants up the hill and into the woods this morning, after the storm that only nicked us. The sky is a bright cornflower blue behind the tan barkiness of the bare tree branches. The moon just set behind the ridge above us, and the day promises to be crisp and cold. I have yet to see a bear, but for the one sighting on the road. They must, indeed, be sleeping.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)