Fighting Fear…with Corn

A few weeks ago, for a completely unrelated

right to be wrong (Copy)

photo credit: Katie Regan

reason, a tweet from fellow #coflipper Katie Regan caught my attention. In the background of the picture she posted was a poster with the words:

School is the Right place to be wrong! Learn from your mistakes.

This couldn’t have come at a better time – as I was in the throws of making a major shift in my goals as a teacher.  The catalyst for this change was a combination of this poster and our lab work. Between these two things, bells rang, the clouds parted, and Ba-BAMB! – it all made sense. The words on Katie’s wall were perfect – they summed up exactly what I had wanted to convey to my students, and immediately has become my new mantra. This is what my classroom and my students need: a place to promote higher order thinking/problem solving without fear – BUT, if they don’t believe the words on the poster then I will be a long time reaching that place. 

I began to notice the need for this change the more time I spent with my students in the lab. Just before Katie’s tweet arrived on my feed, my students had just completed a lab I have done for a number of years in our advanced program: the genetics of corn and the use of chi-square analysis.

I love this lab. It is a great use of real life data to explore inheritance, and in some (albeit) weird way feel like I am channeling Barbara McClintock in my little corner of the world. It has a bit more spice to it than just doing 87 punnett square problems on worksheets (I know you bio teachers out there know what I am talking about…I mean, seriously, there are only so many of those a kid can do). Students observe corn from the parent generation and from the F1, and they are given a cob representing the F2. From this they are to figure out a possible inheritance pattern and collect raw data from their F2 corn cob, and then use a chi-square analysis to determine if their data fall within acceptable ranges. Basically, I am trying to show my students that there is a way to statistically know if you are ‘close enough’ to be right. (Check out the lab sheet here if you want more details!)


Data collection in this lab is all about counting each kernel on the cob, and as one student put it in the opening of his conclusion: ‘This lab was a real pain.’ (a little too subjective maybe, but I saw his point). Ok, so there is a touch of tedium in this lab (yet still way better than 87 extra punnett square problems), but even before they got to this point my students needed to figure out what they thought the inheritance pattern might be and create their hypothesis. They were on their own to solve this puzzle, which I figured they would dig it because I was giving them some freedom, but they flat out resisted. They wanted the answer; They wanted to know what to do and how to do it; They wanted to know exactly what I wanted, and I looked them straight in the eye and gave it to them – a whole lot of nothing. I had ‘cut the cord.’

And then I saw it: fear.

It was like being hit by a ton of bricks: They were afraid – not so much about the task… they were afraid to be wrong.

Not only were they afraid to guess the inheritance pattern wrongly (even though they have at this point a really great understanding of some of the major ways we inherit our traits), they were afraid to even write anything that may be incorrect in their lab books. The big part of this lab is they have to show their thinking ‘out loud’ in their lab book; the rights, the wrongs, the maybes. All of it. However, as I worked my way from group to group, I noticed that many of my students were trying to work out their ideas on separate pieces of paper, and very few were actually writing in their lab books. Observe an exchange I had with one of students as I witnessed him feverishly working something out on scrap paper:

Me: Hey, why don’t you put all that in your lab book?

Student: Because what if I’m wrong?

Me: Well, then you are. (very confused look from my student) Then you try something new. What makes the most sense in what you see? Use what you know. Put it all down in your data section.

Student (hesitantly): OK… (proceeds cautiously to writing in his lab book)

And this was a common exchange with my students for the next hour.

This fear was visibly stifling their thinking – limiting their ability to critically problem solve what they were seeing. They were missing the big picture, and were only focused on the I-must-find-the-one-answer-she-is-looking-for mentality, refusing to put anything down unless I had confirmed that they were right. And here I was – not telling them a thing, but guiding them to experiment and feel comfortable about the process. I was hoping they would try to identify reasons their null hypothesis wasn’t accepted if that was how it worked out; to explore the delicacies and the imperfections in working with living things. Science isn’t always pretty, but it sure is fascinating – and I really want them to see that verses ‘did I get it right?’ (especially with their independent research project gearing up to start…)

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not expecting my students to do cartwheels if they don’t have the right inheritance pattern (and PS – many were able to figure out what was going on with the corn), but I do hope for them to work through the process before they come running for me to tell them what to do. The failures and wrongs of science propel further science. It drives innovation and inspires new questions – why didn’t it work? What if I changed this? Will it work in another species? And yet, I have a few students who border on panic attacks when they can’t figure it out perfectly the. first. time. Where is the fun in the discovery if that is the case?

Since flipping this course, I have focused heavily fostering greater collaboration – both for myself (I adore my PLN) and for my students. We have WSQ discussions over the content where my students group together to work through the meaning of the topic covered in the vodcasts. We have finally arrived at a place where they are comfortable with each other, so why aren’t they comfortable to work out their ideas – all their ideas – with each other?

The epiphany I had following this lab and seeing Katie’s poster is to conquer this fear in my students. I want them to see my classroom as a place where they are safe to try things and feel comfortable (but not content) to be wrong. The idea is to use being wrong as a tool on their exploration process. From here, we can work towards the deeper thinking that problem solving generates.

I am at the stage right now where I have more questions than answers, but I will work to figure it out and combat this fear in my students. What I do know is that the only way for my students to trust and believe in the words on that poster is to strive for  an environment where my students feel open enough to be wrong and work towards the right answer. I also have to let go of some of the very straight forward, never-fail, labs that are counter productive to inquiry and problem solving, and build in labs that promote ‘out of the box’ thinking.

Once upon a time, we all had a crazy sense of curiosity and wondered ‘why?’ for everything (and were sometimes relentless till we were satisfied with the answer). We weren’t concerned with the right answer before we even tried. So what has changed? Somewhere between the ‘why?’ phase we all went through and the time I see them in my classroom, many of my students have lost this wonder and have become fearful because it might not be ‘what the teacher was looking for.’

I want my classroom to be the one that rediscovers the curiosity in my students. I think I always have wanted that, but since the collision of the corn lab with Katie’s tweet, I now feel that I have a vision to make it real.

“I believe that all children have an inner scientist within them, and we need to get them in touch with their inner scientist again.” Ainissa Ramirez, Save Our Science2013

Thinking in Color


Now that the majority of the content delivery in my flipclass is via my vodcasts, and I am no longer lecturing, the key is making the most out of the time I have with my students.  Most of the time is now spent with my students collaborating and working on things such as:

  • ‘WSQ Discos” (coined by my Advanced Bio class – the discussions following the WSQ they do as part of watching the vodcast – Thank you very much…again, Crystal Kirch, for sharing such an EduAwesome method!)
  • lab and lab analyses
  • problems (like figuring out what is needed and what you get in cell respiration or inheritance patterns)

The toughest part has been finding the little things that keep them excited and impassioned about digging in and working through something they don’t already know…

….And then I found (drums, please…):

MARKERS! Not just any marker, neon dry erase markers. These babies were made for lab tables. They are bright and neon and wipe right off, AND MY STUDENTS LOVE THEM! Before my students were pretty good discussing the content or working on whatever we were doing that day, but I wouldn’t say they were truly collaborating.The day I broke out the markers, immediately there was a glimmer, but skepticism, in their eye.

You mean we can write on the tables? For real?

There is something magical about placing a marker in the hands of …. well … anyone. That has to be why they were called magic markers. As the color started flowing, I suddenly felt like curling my bangs and pegging my pants. The ’80s looked like it had exploded in my classroom.  But the best outcome (besides reliving my youth) was to see my students finally starting to collaborate – truly work together to solve a problem, because they were creating the diagrams/drawings together to make a whole. As I wandered around the room, I could see/hear them asking each other questions – they weren’t looking for me to tell them the answer. This was something that hadn’t happened in my pre-flip days.
IMG_0011Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t an overnight switch, but I will say the markers helped speed up the process. They have become an integral part of my students’ learning, and as simple as it seems, have definitely brought my kids to the next level in their critical thinking/problem solving skills. My tables act as their canvas, allowing them to think in color. There is no fear of being wrong when working out thoughts on the tables because they don’t hand them in. That lack of fear has helped them deepen their understanding of concepts and opened up some really awesome discussions. Some students have such a fear of failure that they refuse to even contribute because they don’t want to be perceived as being ‘wrong.’ (In my experience I find it is more often my girls – but that is a topic for another time). Bringing my students together at the tables and letting them hash it out for themselves has increased my connection time with  them (I can work individually or with the group to strengthen where they are weak), and has fostered a community of learning in my classroom. 
So if you would like a really effective – yet, extremely cost efficient – way to engage your students. I totally recommend getting yourself a set. Play with them yourself – you won’t want to put them down!

Breaking the Ice

Fusion. noun. often attributive. 

: a union by or as if by melting: as

: a merging of diverse, distinct, or separate elements into a unified whole

: a partnership : coalition

paint blending

Fusion. I’ve spent the past four days rolling this word around in my head. I’ve felt like Hercules Poirot sorting and solving a mystery and putting the pieces together, and then suddenly – just like that – the answer is there. The ‘who did it’ solved and I know what I need to do…and here I am.

Friday night I watched many of my students (past, present, & most likely future) weave and fuse dance, art, and music into an amazing two hours. Called ‘Movin’ on Fusion,’ this was an incredible celebration of the talent of our students (and incidentally the catalyst for my fusion obsessed weekend). Particularly memorable was one of my current students dancing around a number of other students drawing, painting, and throwing pottery on the stage. This young lady took my breath away with her grace and elegance as she appeared to glide in and around the other artists.

The amazing part: I had no idea she could dance like that.

I was stunned. She tends to struggle in my class, rarely has work done on time, and yet, there on the stage she was poised & graceful. She was in control. She was not the same girl I see every other day during block 5.

As I watched her, my brain was on fire with questions  – How do I bring out that girl in class? Second semester is about to start, why haven’t I yet? Where is that confidence? Where is she? And then, just like that, the answer: Fusion. Bring the two together. Fuse that energy and passion with what is happening in the classroom. Make her the center of her learning.

And with that, a decision was made.

I began flipping my advanced biology class last spring, and am evolving into #CoFlip (collaborative flipped learning) with the course this year. (Check out Andrew Thomasson’s recent post “How to Stop Collaboration” or Cheryl Morris’ “How to Start the Flip“). The experience I am having in flipping Advanced is like no other I have had in my 11 years teaching, but had some reservations about taking my College Prep (CP) Biology course that route.

Until I saw the difference.

In Me.

In My Students.

If I could watch myself in my Advanced class and myself in CP, I wouldn’t think it was the same teacher. In Advanced, I am interacting. I am discussing. I am questioning with my students. I am encouraged. In CP, I am talking at my students. I am rushing. I am telling. I am frustrated. In Advanced, my Students are interacting. They are collaborating. They are discussing and questioning. They are encouraged. In CP, my Students are arriving confused and unprepared.  They are not questioning. They are falling asleep. They are frustrated.

It’s a no brainer.

So here I am. Ready to work through my transition & work with my students to find in my class the girl I saw on stage Friday night. And while I may be alone in this at my school right now, I am not totally alone. I have my PLN. My #CFC. Cheryl, Carolyn, Karl, Andrew, Crystal, Delia, Audrey (and many others I encounter daily); I am thankful everyday for finding such amazing educators who challenge me to be better, and grateful that I am going to have the opportunity to get to know you all better as we bring to life our little project. It is, as Delia puts it, ‘Coflipilicious!’

I know this will be a difficult change, but it is a necessary change. At the end of the day, if I can honestly say I did what is best for my students, than that is all that counts.

So as I break the ice on sharing my journey, I look forward to the collaboration. The sharing.


I am…

redefining priorities.

thinking outloud.

taking my time.

making stars out of play-doh.


I am…

drying tears.

questioning why.

walking outside.

playing hide and seek.


I am…

observing life.

dancing on my toes.

stretching my limits.

inventing myself.


I am…

painting a sunset.

teaching to read.

singing in the shower.

bending over backwards.


I am…

speaking my mind.

finding the strength.

writing a story.

rocking to sleep.


Who knew?

When I was 4 years old, I discovered that the closet bar was totally awesome to hang upside down on.  It was completely logical; I’d pull my mother’s clothes down and  have a ready-made soft landing.  This was perfect…until I tried putting my 1 year old brother up there too.

That was it. Decision made.  My parents signed me up for gymnastics.

Their reasoning: ‘Well, she’ll learn to fall and have a mat under her when she does it.” (and save my mother’s clothes and most likely my brother’s life).

Thus began my life as a gymnast.  For 18 years following that first class, I ate, breathed, and slept in the gym.  

Chalk dust runs through my veins, and to this day I marvel at the fact that my hands finally look ‘normal.’

My last competition was nationals my senior year of college…13 years ago.

However, gymnastics is still a large factor of who I am. It always will be – I was a gymnast. I am a gymnast.  I used to kid around that I spent more time upside down that I did right side up!

A decade ago, I traded in my grips and chalk for a chalk board. I am a biology teacher.  As was with gymnastics, teaching is demanding, rigorous, and you constantly need to ‘use it or you lose it.’ And just like gymnastics, teaching is a year round sport, and the off season is almost more important than the meet season because that is where the hard training happens – all in preparation for the upcoming meet season.  It is really amazing how similar the two are!

Life has pulled me away from being intimately involved with gymnastics, but recently I found a new way to flip and teach at the same time…and I am really excited about it. I found it unexpectedly , and yet it is so fundamentally simple in concept. I am going to flip my classroom….or at least, one class to start.  Over the past 6 months, I have been feverishly researching this model of teaching and chatting with teachers all over North America (thank you, Twitter and specifically the #flipclass thread!!).  It has been a very long time since I was so excited about a movement in education, but I believe in this one. It just makes sense.

Thirty one years ago, my mom & dad signed me up for gymnastics so that I would learn to fall with a mat under me. I did learn to fall (and I learned a few really cool tricks along the way), and I am sure that will come in handy over the next year. I have no doubt I will fall – and given my new community of flipping teachers out there who are so willing to share their experiences – I have my mat.