Skip to main content

More questions than answers~


What sets teaching apart from most jobs, besides motherhood, is the amount of questions teachers get asked during the day. I can think of few jobs designed to be so question oriented. Kids are supposed to ask questions. Teachers encourage this.

"Are there any questions?" we prompt.

We tell students that there is no such thing as a stupid question.

"How are you going to learn if you don't ask?" we say.

And I love questions--both asking and answering them.

I encourage my students to be curious. "I hope you always have more questions, than answers," I say. "Being inquisitive is what leads to new discoveries."

Today after reading about natural resources, we discussed wind power. One boy asked about the turbines. How heavy were they? Did they have to be light so the wind would turn them?

This brought on a discussion of aerodynamics and force and airborne things. I ended up demonstrating Bernoulli's principle. Later the boy who posed the question asked if he could do some research on the computer. I love that kind of curiosity.

But then there are all the other questions. The ones I seem to answer over and over until I want to bang my head against my desk.

All of these questions have been addressed many times, answered in detail, explained as part of the class routine to be followed from day one. Why do they persist in asking again and again as if my answer will change?

Student: Do we have to write in cursive?
Me: What do I always say?

Student: I'm done. Where do I put my paper?"
Me: Where do you always put your papers?

Student: Can I use the other side of my paper if I need more space?
Me: (silence) I stare with raised eyebrows.

I get asked umpteen thousand nonsense questions every day. I answer with questions of my own. Kids need to be reminded to stop and think, to look around, to remember. To see that they can answer most of their own questions with a little common sense and thought.

I've taped a sign to my desk-- a rule. "Ask 3 before you ask me. I'm not the only human resource in this room I tell them. Ask others first."

Student: Mrs. D, where are the scissors? (This from a child who is sitting between two friends who are using scissors.)
Me: Who did you ask before you asked me?

Sometimes not answering is best. But woe to the poor kid who places the straw on my back with a question I've asked "ten thousand times already."
~~~~~
It is not every question that deserves an answer. Publius Syrus

Comments

Janice Thomson said…
I like how you handle the children by guiding them to be more resourceful.

I would never make a good teacher as I remember at times feeling a bit frustrated with my own children's questions :) I was sure they asked more than any other child in the world. Interestingly enough I have asked my own fair share of questions over the years...
Ruth L.~ said…
My own kids used to complain about my teacher ways. When they asked where the peanut butter was, I'd reply, "Where do you think it would be?" They'd say, just tell me, Mom. Stop making us think. It paid off. :>) They also accused me of going into a trance when I was reading. They could ask me anything and I'd say "Um hum!"
raine said…
My mother could carry on a conversation and never stop reading her book! I think a good teacher must have more patience than anyone on earth.
Ruth L.~ said…
Hi there...
I commented on your latest blog last night but it didn't show..maybe I didn't do
it 'right'. I was laughing about your latest entry b/c I felt like I was right
down the hall from you....and your shoe/pencil policy and the inquiry questions.
The kids loved those, loved that kind of 'homework'.

Good weekend to you... ;-)
jwww.thelongstorylonger.blogspot.com

~~~~~
I decided to post your comment this way, Jen.

I have a feeling that this post will be most appreciated by other teachers in the trenches. You have to be there to get it. I know you do. :>)

R~
~~~~~

Popular posts from this blog

For Alice~ She's home!!!!!!!

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Sometimes it's all about knowing that loved ones and friends stand behind you, knowing that support is there on the down days, the worry days, the days when you feel off-center, out of sync, bedraggled emotionally, and in pain, but knowing all the while that you're not alone. You're not alone... Alice is an online friend--she lives in Hawaii-- who belongs to the writer's workshop that I do. We've only "met" online, but those who have online friendships know that they can be just as strong as those in-person relationships. Alice was hit by a car while walking, and is in the rehab phase of things. She's working to regain mobility after a broken pelvis, a broken arm, and a broken nose. It's scary to realize how, in the blink of an eye, life can lurch and our plans for a time are displaced by survival and healing. We&#

This retirement thing~

This retirement thing . . . it seems like it should be so easy, so effortless, so thrilling, to stop the daily grind. It is thrilling; at least I think it will be come September when I'm not following the school buses to work. But it's not easy. I had a plan book on my desk for 35 years, one I filled in weekly, scheduling new lessons at 45-minute intervals, meetings, parent conferences, and field trips. I knew what needed to be done and when. I got up at the same time everyday (5:45 a.m.), ate lunch at the same time (12:06 p.m.) and watched the kids pack their bags for home everyday at 2:15 p.m. I'm not sorry to give up that regimentation. But three weeks into the summer, I find myself making lists of things I need to do, and there is so much to do that I can't imagine how I managed while I was working eight hours on top of it all. There are the household chores, gardening, exercise (aren't retirees supposed to get fitter?), freelance writing, book reviewing, readin

Lesson from a Weed~

If dandelions could talk, here’s what I think they might say:  " Bloom where you’re planted, sink your roots deep. Smile in the sun, soak up the rain, and let the wind take you to new places." Dandelions are an early spring food for bees. They are often the first flower a young child picks for his mother and they provide a sweet moment for a mother to teach her child to make a wish and blow away the seeds. They speckle landscapes with lemon-colored glory. Common, and often disliked by those in favor of perfect lawns, we trample over them with hardly a thought. All this crossed my mind as I stood in this field of dandelions, most having gone to seed. I had an hour to myself at a retreat at a beautiful family farm on this day of unexpected sunshine and warmth. I was looking for a moment of stillness.   I’d watched two swans,   visited the alpacas,   chatted with the chickens, tried to coax a kitty closer...