Friday, 4 December 2015

Odds and Evens

We had the idea that, it being Christmas, it might be the time to do some mathematical stars. And it was. (Click link to see details about the lesson.) We made them on paper, and we made them in Geogebra. And people noticed things! The same pattern was repeating with different numbers. And the pattern of repeats was interesting.
To give them another way of looking at the pattern of repeats, I showed them a multiplication square. We looked at the last digits in the multiples of 4 and how they are the same as the ones of 6 but backwards.

But then people started noticing other kinds of unrelated things.

How the second row is double the first row. How the bottom left is the same as the top right. How the square numbers in the red diagonal go odd, even, odd, even. Someone said that there are more even numbers than odd ones. Then T said that only odd numbers times odd numbers give odd numbers; the rest are even. I perhaps showed some sign of approval at this point; in any case T suggested that should go up on the mathematical claims board. Yes, it would, I said.

There seemed to be so much noticing going on, that the next day I gave them an image of what we'd discovered with the stars and also a blank multiplication square, and asked them to write about, and illustrate, what they'd noticed about one or both of these. I wanted to do this because I thought I would get a variety of responses, and get away from the idea that there was one thing I expected, towards the idea of their own individual directions being important. And they were able to describe and illustrate lots of noticings:
Today T's claim went up. I wondered whether they might be able to justify it - especially if they'd had some concrete experience fresh in their minds. So we borrowed the Numicon, which because it's lined up in two rows is great for odds and evens. We represented some multiplications and saw whether T's claim held true. 

.
They documented T's claim and our examples of it, but justifying it was generally a step too far. I got the sense that they intuitively sensed it from our practical work, but articulating the intuition was just too demanding. It's a class which demands more time in terms of dealing with emotions, behaviour and relationships, and perhaps the level of focus was just not there, but in any case perhaps I should have saved T's claim up for justification later, after we'd look at simpler cases, like the addition of odds and evens. I think it was worthwhile, even if we weren't able to round it off with a justification.

It was interesting that there were more things observed when we looked at T's claim together:
These could be followed up, but I sense it's time to move on, and perhaps return to the whole thing later, before anyone gets boggled.

Sunday, 29 November 2015

Division without calculation

Rosy tells me that Year 5 (Gr 4) are about to do some work on division.

I've been thinking about some work that could be done with Cuisenaire rods on division, a lesson that would not necessarily help with learning a division algorithm but would develop number sense and reasoning. I looked through the division chapter in Madeleine Goutard's Experiences With Numbers in Colour and this caught my eye.

How many brown rods are in six black rods?

Black rods are 7 cm long; brown rods are 8 cm long.
Here's Goutard's diagram:

If I had the rods with me now, I'd make a little video (in the style of Peter James Jackson's great videos). But just to show the six blacks and ask the question would be enough. And then what? To show them the movement straight away? I think so, because the point of this is that calculation isn't necessary. It's about manipulation, transformation.

I think what I'd ask for next is for children to make another example of the same kind of thing with different rods. "See what you can do."

I'd go round as they were trying it, and maybe select some to show with the document viewer to the whole class. Then, when everyone had got the idea more clearly, we'd work on it a bit more. Would any children make an example where more than one rod has to be moved to the end? That would be great.

Then I'd ask them to draw and write about what they've done on squared paper. I wouldn't be looking for a general description. It would be enough that the children are exploring a number pattern and thinking about a way that numbers can be manipulated. But if there were some observations about what was going on, or questions, so much the better!

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Professor Smudge had a tweet with a question on this:

Monday, 9 November 2015

Same difference again

Last school year I blogged about how children in year 4 were proving a generalisation about subtraction. It was time to try the same thing again with my new class. They took a little longer to get the task, but after a while all got to the stage of creating a set with a difference of three:
When I asked what they noticed, a few people saw that the set would continue forever:
But they didn't see mention how the pairs increment. So we left it at that.

When we'd earlier made equations about the number fifteen,
T had written this:

30 - 15 = 15
29 - 14 = 15
28 - 13 = 15

So I took it as my second chance, and a couple of days later showed the class the pattern. They got the idea quickly. What do you notice?
and
Everyone agreed with these generalisations and they went up on the wall.

I asked them if they were able to explain why these claims were true, using words and pictures. This year however they found it much harder to explain themselves, and I don't know why. Sure, the class has a different character. It's earlier in the year. But I'm puzzled that they found it harder to explain what they thought. Most managed to get something on paper, but it didn't seem to convey the general nature of the situation like it did last year.

Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Can students ask - and answer - vast abstract questions, without being taught? Madeleine Goutard on Free and Conquering Minds and Cuisenaire rods

The Cuisenaire Company has republished Madeleine Goutard's Mathematics and Children, and I've been reading my copy.

Here's something. Back in the 1960s she was training teachers in the Province of Quebec, promoting the use of Cuisenaire rods. And yet her first chapter begins with a warning not to use them too much:
“It is generally agreed that concrete experience must be the foundation of mathematics learning. When children find it difficult to understand arithmetic it is at once suggested that this is because it is too abstract; for small children the study is then simply reduced to the counting of objects. It seems to me that there has perhaps been too great a tendency to make things concrete and that perhaps the difficulties children experience spring from the fact that they are kept too much at the concrete level and are forced to use too empirical a mode of thought.” (p2, my emphasis)
What kind of abstraction is she looking for then? Exactly the kind that Connecting Arithmetic to Algebra is recommending: looking for general patterns in the way simple arithmetic works.
"I find it of limited value to ask children a large number of definite, restricted questions whose answers they obtain through manipulation of the rods. On the other hand, I find it most profitable to start with vast questions which can be seen in a number of ways and which permit a continuous analysis of the dynamics involved. This is why I shall consider here families of equivalent additions, of equivalent subtractions, and of equivalent products and quotients." (p3)
And as well as having a clear idea of the kinds of areas that are fruitful to investigate, Goutard had a very strong view of the role of the teacher.
"The teacher is not the person who teaches him what he does not know. He is the one who reveals the child to himself by making him more conscious of, and more creative with his own mind. The parents of the little girl of six who was using the Cuisenaire rods at school marveled at  her knowledge and asked her: 'Tell us how the teacher teaches you all this', to which the little girl replied: The teacher teaches us nothing. We find everything out for ourselves.
It is evidently very difficult to give the child so complete an impression of non-presence, and to convince him that he alone is the artisan of his own education, but this is the way in which free and conquering minds are formed." (p184)
You can see that Goutard has an abstract way of writing, quite philosophical and psychological. I find I want to ask her, "How did the teacher teach her?? Yes, I know she stood back and gave her space. But how did she set up her sessions? How do you reconcile the seeming oxymoron of having the student genuinely following their own way, and at the same time having the teacher directing them towards the vast questions? How, not just in general terms, but how does a lesson go? What do you say? What do you do?" I want to see dialogues, with just a little bit of analysis, like you find in Connecting Arithmetic to Algebra. I want to get a feel for actual lessons.

But we haven't got that.

Luckily, all is not lost. If we don't have a clear roadmap, we've got a clear destination and a bearing. And I'm getting a more and more clear idea about the details. It helps to have colleagues like Caroline Ainsworth bringing Goutard's ideas to life. And #MTBoS collagues like  Tracy Johnston Zager,  Kristin Gray,  Mike FlynnElham Kazemi and Kassia Wedekind and many others who while they understand the vital importance of the agency of students, also seek ways for them to connect with the 'vast questions'.

I think the square can be circled.

Our beginnings are small:
After which we go off to write our own ones in our journals.

The next step is to take one of these, and focus on it. (For example, I find the relation between the five threes and Jinmin's triangle number way of expressing it worth following. Worth getting the rods out and investigating.) And then you're listening out for the generalisation, the claim. Up on the claims board. Do you agree with it? Then how would you explain it?  Show it with pictures, words, equations, a story...
I hope we can do our bit to reanimate Goutard's brilliant philosophy. I hope too to capture a few of the moments while we're at it, and perhaps share them with you.
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Today we got our "Mathematical Claims" board started. To get the ball rolling I showed an image and asked for remarks. After the obvious features, I asked if anyone could say something more general. "What does general mean?" someone asked. We talked about that a little and then Tibo said:
to which Jinmin adedd:

These ones came a bit too quick and easily; they'd talked about them with teachers before. But they went up on the board to get the idea going. I'm looking forward to claims that come out of a more immersive experience of trying things out, reflection, and talking things through, ideas that are a little more hard-won, (and hard-defended).

Saturday, 24 October 2015

Manipulatives

The #elemmathchat conversation is always at the slightly difficult hour of 3 am. here in France. I did set my alarm this Thursday, and did manage to wake up to turn it off, but that's as far as it went. So I caught up with it on Storify and favourited and commented a little. Here's one I liked.

and then it went like this:
and
Tracy quoted this from Making Sense in her blog post recently:
“In traditional systems of instruction, teachers are asked to provide feedback on students’ responses, to tell them whether or not they are right…this is almost always unnecessary and usually inappropriate. Mathematics is a unique subject because…correctness is not a matter of opinion; it is build into the logic and structure of the subject…There is no need for the teacher to have the final word on correctness. The final word is provided by the logic of the subject and the students’ explanations and justifications that are built on this logic” (Hiebert et al. 1997, 40).
It's a bit like Gattegno had it in his picture I've shown before:
Gattegno was saying, the knowledge (K) doesn't get poured into the student (S) by the teacher (T); the teacher communicates what they want to communicate by pointing them towards something that will give them the knowledge directly.

This is especially true when the affordances of a manipulative and the way the student has been asked to explore it give the student instant feedback.
27 allows you to fit three nines exactly along next to it. They fit really neatly!
Although Gattegno cuts a slightly odd figure to us now, and his "lesson" is evidently a kind of performance that is at the end of a series of lessons, because he's at the root of how (and that!) we use Cuisenaire rods, we owe him a lot. This second clip is where things really start to get going:


(I wonder, how did Gattegno make that link between "one third of" and x 1/3? Also, how did he get the children comfortable with thirds? I find that's often puzzling for children.)

I feel that his diagram isn't quite right. I want to put conversation into it. Gattegno is talking with the students a lot. But, for me, it's especially student to student conversation - which is notably absent in this video, but needn't be for Cuisenaire rods to be used to give students access to the logic of maths. My diagram would look more like:
My elaboration of Gattegno's picture
I love how Gattegno goes off from the rods into writing equations about 27. Again, this can be done with students making their own equations.

Caroline Ainsworth, following Madeleine Goutard's lead, gets students to write lots of equations about a number. You can see how this could follow on from some version of that 27 discussion:
Here's a page of a child's writing from Goutard:

This seems a really fruitful direction, that I'd like to make my own. I've headed off that way before, but there's a lot further to go.

And have I answered Mark's question? I'm not sure. But I was struck recently, how at Toulouse's "Nuit des Chercheurs", how even a University Professor, Arnaud ChĂ©ritat, and his students are using 3D printed models to understand something that's too illusive without something to handle and look at:

____________________________________________________________________________
Illustrations added for my reply to Joe's comment below:

Illustration A: What can you say about this picture?

Illustration B: What can you say about this picture?

Sunday, 18 October 2015

Practical Pedagogies Conference

We've just had our Practical Pedagogies Conference here at the International School of Toulouse.
It was our brilliant, and here sharply-dressed, history teacher, Russel Tarr (of activehistory.co.uk and classtools.net fame)  who came up with the concept and worked on most of the orgainising, though credit goes to everyone at the school for supporting and assisting in all sorts of ways. Like our previous Practical Learning Technologies in the Classroom conference in March 2012, this was about us teachers deciding what we thought would be really useful to share and creating a range of workshops. Russel then threw it open to attendees at the conference, and we ended up with an astonishing line-up of sessions.

Disppointments? One: the inability to be in two places at the same time. Even so, with a bit of research, it's possible to catch up on some of the sessions I missed. Like Ewan McIntosh's session on "hexagonal thinking".Another: I'd wanted to run a workshop with Jim on creativity in maths, but for various reasons we didn't run it (next time). But I loved running a session with Estelle on Valuing Talk, and one with Rosy on Big Questions and Philosophy for Children.

It was fantastic to have time with a bunch of really motivated and knowledgeable colleagues, some of whom I'd known on Twitter, but not met. The conversations in between sessions (and in the evening at the restaurant), as you'd expect, are as essential as the workshops.
the restaurant, Thursday evening
Just now - another blog post about the two days, by Ben Rouse
...
And now - Dave Stacey's blog posts

And later - Russel's initial reflections

Big Questions and Philosophy

As part of our Practical Pedagogies Conference, Rosy and I ran a workshop on Big Questions and Philosophy for Children.
It's been great working with Rosy to prepare this session, discussing our approaches, visiting each other's classrooms.
She uses a lot of playful activities that help everyone to participate in philosophical thinking, and I've been learning lots from what I've seen.
Here's the slideshow we used for the session:

Here we are, sorting the big philosophical questions from the not-so philosophical ones:
And discussing which big questions could come from a reading of Anthony Browne's Voices in the Park:

Here are some of the ideas we came up with. There were so many great ones!

  • Why do other people see things differently to me?
  • Why do we fear what's different?
  • Why is there a tree on fire in the park?
   (- This question, although perhaps not a "big" question, leads on to how Anthony Browne is using so many visual metaphors in the book. And  understanding of metaphor in stories unlocks all sorts of potential for discussion of them.)
  • What is fair?
  • What's wrong with a mongrel?
  • What makes us happy?
  • How do we perceive/define love?
  • Why are they unhappy?
  • Why do people go to communal places?
  • Is discrimination learned?
  • Why do the adults not interact?
  • Why can't scruffy kids play with smart kids?
  • Why do some people treat their animals better than their children?
  • Why don't boys like playing with girls?

It's not easy coming up with questions, but ultimately we'd like a situation where the students themselves can generate questions from a stimulus, and decide which one to discuss!

Valuing Talk in the Classroom

It's been a great experience working with Estelle on creating our Practical Pedagogies session. We wanted to look at ways that we encourage children to talk that enhance their learning. And, not only that, we wanted to look around and see how other people were doing it.
I'm lucky to have a bunch of colleagues who, despite all the time-pressures and full-on work of just being a teacher, make time to think about how to do it better, and how to share the growth with others.

So from time to time through the year Estelle and I tried things out, visited each other's classrooms, working out what it is that can be shared in a short time that will make the difference. Back in January we sketched a few ideas while we had lunch at BETT:
Some ideas we abandoned (dictation software!); others we focused on in the classroom, making talk routines, and reflecting on talk, a bigger part of our teaching. The journey has been as much, more, than the short session we ran yesterday, and I think, hope, we'll continue to develop it.  Certainly, staff are seeing the benefits of visiting and learning from each other!

Here's Rachel's summary of her Objective, Strategy, Tactics after the two days were up:


The slides from give some idea of what we did in the session;


I like Estelle's Objective, Strategy, Tactics:

Monday, 5 October 2015

Knowledge

I'm interested in exploring with the class, in general terms, what it means to know something. There's Plato's three-part definition: that

  1. the thing must be true, 
  2. you must believe it, and 
  3. you must have grounds for believing it.

I'm especially interested in that last one. I don't want to "teach" any of this of course, but I'm interested in providing stimuluses that will provoke the class to explore the whole area.

Here are three short lessons from the last three weeks.

I told a story about a girl called Leena who sees the poster for Star Wars, and although she hasn't seen the film, she tells the basic story of the film to her friends, which they like.
 And I asked the question:

Quite a few children found the question quite a challenge, but I was determined to press on. Next week...
 I've mentioned the story The Sound the Hare Heard before. It's basically an ancient Henny Penny story, with the difference that Lion sorts out the problem by investigating the truth of it.

Here's some whiteboard notes of some of the responses to it:
This time I felt like the ideas and conversation was flowing a bit more. Probably a better story!

This week we started by reviewing the previous two. Having seen Rosy's great philosophy sessions with Year 5, there was going to be more moving about, more quick-fire involvement. Children had to stand up and go to one side of the classroom (or stay in the middle if they were unsure) depending on what they felt about these.
Most went to the left. When it came to justifying their position there were a variety of examples:
  • A time I'd been scared, but not of anything real,
  • When I'd thought a book was going to be about a boy, but it turned out to be about an animal,
  • When I thought I'd broken my leg but I hadn't really.
  • I have lots of crazy ideas.
  • I thought I couldn't breathe (and then thinking this made it come true),


This provoked some really interesting ideas. Most went to the right, with lots in the middle too.
On the right, justifications:

M: It's fun discovering things, good to learn,
B: There is too much knowledge in the world for one person to know,
R: What about scary truths, that once you know them you can't hide from them any more?
R: What about secrets that you're not supposed to know,
T: Some things different people think different things, and one is not more right than the other.

I was really pleased to hear such interesting ideas. And pleased too because Rosy was sitting in on the lesson. I'll be visiting her's again later this week, perhaps to video this time.

I rounded this one off by telling the story of the Emperor's New Clothes, which most of them know, but is worth retelling.

None of what we've done is what you'd call conclusive. But
  • I do think we're getting more at home in the territory;
  • We're getting used to some of the ways of doing this: justifying opinions, giving examples, changing our mind, listening to each other carefully.
  • It seems to be getting more fun, and everyone is joining in more.

Watch this space.