Friday morning was spent exploring ice.
I spent last week filling up ice cube trays.
I only have three trays - and obviously need to get more. (I can hear my husband say: what, more crap to keep in the basement!)
Clear, blue, turquoise, magenta, purple ice cubes. Until I had just about a gazillion ice cubes.
I bought salt.
We had sparkles.
In my brain plan, my students would create some pretty amazing ice monuments and sculptures.
And they explored.
They checked out the salt. What did it do?
They held the ice cubes and watched them melt. They felt how cold the ice water was.
They poured.
They stirred. And watched the colours as they moved and changed as they melted.
Can we have some empty bowls please?
They sorted the ice cubes.
They put different coloured ice cubes into a bowl, sprinkled salt on top and watched to see what would happen.
They made sure that everyone involved had ice cubes.
They asked me for things in kind voices.
They kept all the mess on the tarp.
And there were no sculptures. No monuments. Not a single ice palace.
But we had exploring and experimenting and co-operating and questioning and planning.
We had process.
And I am reminded once again, that process is where learning happens.
Today, I celebrate process.
I spent last week filling up ice cube trays.
I only have three trays - and obviously need to get more. (I can hear my husband say: what, more crap to keep in the basement!)
Clear, blue, turquoise, magenta, purple ice cubes. Until I had just about a gazillion ice cubes.
I bought salt.
We had sparkles.
In my brain plan, my students would create some pretty amazing ice monuments and sculptures.
And they explored.
They checked out the salt. What did it do?
They held the ice cubes and watched them melt. They felt how cold the ice water was.
They poured.
They stirred. And watched the colours as they moved and changed as they melted.
Can we have some empty bowls please?
They sorted the ice cubes.
They put different coloured ice cubes into a bowl, sprinkled salt on top and watched to see what would happen.
They watched how paper towels "slurp" up the melted water.
They asked me for things in kind voices.
They kept all the mess on the tarp.
And there were no sculptures. No monuments. Not a single ice palace.
But we had exploring and experimenting and co-operating and questioning and planning.
We had process.
And I am reminded once again, that process is where learning happens.
Today, I celebrate process.
celebrations
big and small
personal and professional
Sounds like a fabulous experience, Sandi.
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