Think Like a Teacher

I have been thinking a lot lately about why teachers become teachers. I know the media and the teacher-bashers have it all wrong. It’s not all about wanting summers off or a cushy job. Three posts/articles got my attention this week on the related topics of teacher respect and recruitment. An April Fool’s “memo” from a school administrator mentioned Finland’s teacher education programs that skim la creme de la creme to enter teacher preparation after two years of college performance. This would imply that Finns choose teaching because it is a place to work among very smart, well-prepared people. A New York Times Op Ed described a writer’s personal experience with teachers, describing an experience and appreciation similar to my own. Perhaps that writer’s teachers chose teaching because they could encourage and challenge students beyond where they went themselves. A series of suggestions from “debaters” also in the Times tout different strategies for raising the status of teachers. These various suggestions imply that money, autonomy, professional growth, supply and demand, and various other factors drive the choices of 18 to 22 year olds to consider teaching.

We should be asking good teachers the question: Why did you choose teaching?  To reach a consensus of what a good teacher is for this exercise,  I would propose using teacher-leaders respected by a broad spectrum of their peers and/or credited by former students as having had profound impact — in both public and private teaching settings. I have some ideas of what they might say, though we know the responses would vary each decade since the 1960s and 1970s, when opportunities for women changed dramatically. Some responses I suspect we would hear:

• I did well in school, so I like being around schools.
• My teachers were nice to me, and I liked the idea of paying it forward.
• I liked the idea of doing something a little different every day.
• I grew up in a family of teachers.
• A teacher changed my life.
• I thought that was what a smart girl was supposed to do.
• Teaching was the only thing I knew you could do if you loved (fill in the subject here).
• I was more comfortable around kids than adults.
• I love learning new things.
• Teachers get to be creative.
• I couldn’t afford to be a writer/artist, so I decided to teach.
• I always wanted to be a coach, and you have to teach to coach.
• I love to read.
• It feels good to teach people things.
• I like words and can explain anything.
• I like the way a kid looks at me when he “gets it.”
• Teachers get to laugh and make kids laugh.
• add your teacher story starter here

What is probably not on the list:

• I like measuring learning by tests.
• I like using cold, hard data to describe my work.
• I like following someone else’s script.
• I like going to meetings.
• I like having people write letters to the editor about how lazy I am.
• I like being lazy.
• I like being in the middle of domestic disputes.
• I like the thrill of violence.
• add your own unlikely response here

If you are a good teacher or know one, please ask him/her this question and share the responses — and NOT responses — here. You can put “anonymous” as your name. Or just pass the question along on Twitter or Facebook or any other way, tagging it #whyteach. Maybe someone will notice that it’s not all about summer vacations.

Jennifer Northrup’s post about a visit to her media center by teachers-to-be (T2B) raises very important questions about today’s teacher ed programs:

…the discussions of the day really made me wonder if pre-service teacher education is neglecting to prepare students for the role of technology in the classroom. Is it fair to say that we have to hope that these students have a cooperating teacher that utilizes technology in the classroom or that they will be forced to learn it on their own in the end?

My short answer: NO. It is not fair to simply hope a cooperating teacher will have time/expertise/motivation/experience with technology to make this a part of student teaching.  I know from sharing TeachersFirst with T2B in OK2ask sessions that the T2B desperately want to know what to do with technology long before student teaching.

In this case, I think of teaching as a bit like cooking.

A true cook (master teacher) has the expertise to work from available ingredients, create a recipe, adjust the recipe to a different number of servings,  combine it into a broader menu of compatible offerings, adapt for possible food allergies, set the table, and time all the food so it arrives at just the right time to be eaten piping hot or refreshingly chilled. The learning meal then takes on a life of its own through conversation and involvement of everyone around the table– and facilitated by the food prep. If he/she is  smart, the master chef will include students in the food prep for a broader, richer menu. An experienced, tech-savvy teacher integrates technology the same way, using what is available at just the right time to bring every student around the learning table together. If a T2B is lucky enough to be souschef with a master, he/she will at least learn the fundamentals of collecting ingredients and managing simple menu planning. He/she will not learn every utensil or technique, but he/she will be able to serve up a shared learning meal.  The students may even try some foods they would have otherwise avoided when not included in the menu prep.

One problem with teacher ed is that the time limitations and inequities among the kitchen (student teaching) experiences and facilities make consistency very unlikely. We cannot assume that the cooperating teacher or student teaching school will even have essential technology ingredients or expertise. Some will have state of the art appliances and 1:1 computing, while others will have the edtech equivalent of one microwave oven to feed a class of 30… with past-date groceries. To  make it worse, the T2B may arrive having experienced teacher ed faculty who themselves use edtech solely as a drive-through meal: something you grab and go — without looking at the nutritional value!

To steer today’s T2B beyond the drive-through toward solid nutrition in their use of edtech as part of total menu planning, we need to deliberately take them out to “eat” in a variety of schools. We cannot assume that today’s T2B have ever even tasted this food before. Let them taste-test the marvelous things you can do by starting with a simple menu item, let’s say telling a simple digital story. After tasting it, let them try cooking up one of their own–even if it’s a little too crispy around the edges. Then ask them to envision a full menu where it might fit. Show them sample menus.  They may be tempted to simply re-create the comfort food lessons they had over and over as a child. Give them some nutritionally sound starting points they may never have savored.

I recently read a strategic analysis  of the teaching profession (see page 8 re classroom teachers) that described a “divide” between younger teachers entering the profession and old-time union-placard-wielding teachers. Historically, teachers have certainly been as guilty of them vs. us as fifth graders picking teams on the playground. On a bad day, a  teacher might have a parents them, a policy makers them, and/or a media them. But I really do not believe that there is a “divide” between younger and older teachers enough to be a them vs. us. What I do see is a growing isolation built out of self-preservation. As good old Maslow said, we have a hierarchy of needs, and personal security/safety come far before respecting others. Today’s fiscally risky climate builds fear in any teacher’s heart. And some teachers, fearful that they will fall prey to the budget axe, may speak out loud in broad generalizations about a teacher them. As teachers who know the veracity of good ol’ Maslow, we should have the wisdom to hear insecurity speaking when we hear it. We should also be able to point it out as insecurity when speaking to the media them.

But beyond the PR side of this, I want to dig deeper into this purported “divide.” As a teacher who cut my teaching teeth on purple-ditto-fluid-sniffing eighth graders, I am old enough to be on the old age end of this supposed “divide.” Yet why do I find I enjoy working with young teachers– and they with me? Why am I energized by their enthusiasm and are they eager to ask for my suggestions and experiences with this kind of student or that kind of parent or this difficult curriculum area. They even ask for my ideas for maximizing learning using technology. AGE and/or experience do not create a them. I don’t think of myself as “old,” nor do they treat me that way.When among teaching colleagues, I feel we are ageless. Only the moments when they refer to their high school years remind me that we are a generation apart.  As teachers, we are absolutely together. I do not fear that they talk about me behind my back, as “divided” teachers surely would. We are in this together. For the kids.

As politics and financial crises continue to take their toll and send us back to primal levels on Maslow’s hierarchy,  I hope the community of the teaching profession can avoid being split into them and us by changes to pensions, certifications, salaries, and all the other personally threatening safety/security changes that loom. Our kids cannot afford to go to school in a “divided” world of teaching and learning. Anyone who seeks to promote that divide is doing far more damage than a group of fifth graders choosing sides. We teachers — older, younger, and ageless– need to think about how we work together and take advantage of each other’s wisdom, just as we ask our students to do.

Watch a frozen lake evolve through a late winter thaw. The brittle surface, clouded and frozen, thins irregularly and gradually as it dulls in the sun. Pools of water form on top.  The edges pull away from the shore, setting vast sheets afloat. Progress accelerates. The wind rises, pushing water over one edge of the sheet from here to the far side of the lake, wearing away the windward edge, lapping atop,  and refreezing into briefly sparkling formations. Decorated with the diamond necklace of refrozen splash, the sheet backs away downwind. It retracts from all its other sides, shrinking as it slides backward. Ten yards, thirty yards, fifty, all in an hour. The seagulls ride along. Somewhere before it reaches the rear shoreline, it may disappear entirely as the water devours it. But if the sun gives out too soon or the temperature drops, the sparkling necklace refreezes at ice’s edge,  and the sheet holds its place, immobile and unconvinced that thawing is a  good idea.

Watching students– or my fellow teachers– learn is like watching the thaw. I cannot control the sun or the wind, and I am amazed at how quickly the process passes by. I appreciate that no two thaw cycles occur the same way. I especially love watching that edge where water and ice meet, the places where understanding laps at rigidity and forms beautiful but temporary diamonds. And I never know exactly when the water will flow unimpeded. The wind, the temperature, and even rain can change the scene in just minutes. Or it can stay stuck for days.

I wonder whether ice wants to thaw or whether water relishes washing in the newness of spring until the ice concedes to join it. Either way, I really can do no more than observe the conditions and maybe poke a stick at the ice as it flows past my shoreline. Teaching is not about controlling; it is about appreciating, observing, and noticing how the learning works. And maybe once in awhile taking to the ice of misunderstanding on skates to find its edges.

Visit any place: a town, a school, a neighborhood, a college campus, even a restroom, and you will see telltale signs of the culture that lives there in the details that surround you. The trick is noticing. Here are images of details some may or may not notice when traveling in China. Each gives rise to some possible revelations about China– and raises some questions to ask about the culture in the place you call home.

This lady was carefully dusting every opening of a rooftop railing inside a garden in Shanghai. As tourists and other visitors walked beneath her, she continued cleaning. I immediately thought of the people we had seen sweeping the side of major highways with brooms. What might this possibly say about China’s employment or interest in cleanliness or care of public areas? What would I see on an equivalent place where you live?

I know I have possibly said too much about”western” and traditional (squat style) toilets in China. This sign was on the door to one stall where there was a western, seated style toilet. What does it tell you?

The library at the village school we visited had these books on the shelves.  All the bookshelves were arranged in single layer displays of books like this. What can you tell about the school and the library? What would we learn from looking at the details of your school or town library?

Speaking of libraries, in the brand new private school we visited in Shanghai, I saw students taking off their shoes to enter the school library. They lined them up neatly under the bench outside the library door, then went in. What might this say about libraries, shoes, or…? For what places do you take your shoes off?

In the ancient and older buildings of the Forbidden City, a Buddhist temple in Xi’an, and the beautiful garden home (now museum) of an affluent Shanghai family, we saw elevated door sills that our guide said were designed to keep the evil spirits out. You have to step up over every door sill that goes to the outdoors. What do architectural features —  even in non-religious buildings– reveal about the beliefs of people? What architectural features are common in your town’s buildings, and why are they there?

This photo from the Forbidden City shows another architectural feature we saw in many, many,  places in China. Can you find out what these rooftop animals mean? Do you have any decorations that have meaning on the buildings in your city or country?

Right outside the Forbidden City is Ti’ananmen Square. This light pole has more than lights. What else do you see? Why is it there? What would we see on the utility poles in public areas where you live —-and why?

The necessities of everyday life take up time and effort in every culture. What does this street photo tell you about the people of Shanghai? Actually, we saw this in every city. How do people where you live handle the same tasks? (Please pardon the blurriness. This was taken through a bus window.)

Play is important for children everywhere. This little boy had one rollerblade while his sister wore the other. They were playing outside the front door of their village home during the two hour break when children went home from school for lunch. What does this tell you about Chinese village children? If we watched children play in your neighborhood, what would we learn?

In the same small village, we saw this sign. What does it say about what is important there? What would we see in road signs (even on roads like this with few cars) where you live — and why?

Ceremonies and dances appear n every culture. This reenactment of a dance celebration from the Tang Dynasty was even more breathtaking when “stopped” by the camera. What ceremonies and rituals would strangers to your home find striking or surprising? Why do these ceremonies continue?

People say, “You are what you eat,” and one of the first thing everyone asks about my visit to China is about the food. This street stall in the middle of a Beijing neighborhood was well-stocked on a chilly December afternoon. What kind of food would visitors see for sale where you live, and where would they have to go to find it? What does that say about the economy and transportation systems where you live?

If we are what we eat, what would people say about you? These dumplings held mysterious contents, prompting us to ask “what’s inside?” before we tried them. What foods would visitors ask about when they visited your home?

Sometimes looking at the details reveals more questions than answers, but guessing and hypothesizing about culture from the outside details is as delightful as biting into it — and you discover some good stuff.

Snapsnack: (I made this up) n. a quick impression, much like a handful of M&Ms or crackers to give you a small taste but nowhere near a “meal.”  Snapsnacks also make your brain work

There are still so many things I have not written about the China trip, so–just for teachers and kids– I am sharing some quick “snapsnacks” from China. My disclaimer: As with any short trip (11 days), my impressions may not be fair representations of China as a whole. Think about a visitor to your town. If he came on a certain snowy day, he would have one set of experiences, perhaps thinking that everyone always wears boots. If he stayed for a year, he would have a much truer sense of what your town/city/country is all about. For fun, try people-watching at your local grocery store and imagine what a one day visitor would say about your community!

Snapsnack 1: Students in China do not work in groups much. They do things all together as a class, often reciting things out loud as a whole group. When one student is called on, he/she stands, hands behind the back, and looks at the front wall as he/she answers. We never saw a student raise his/her hand. I don’t know if this means they do not ever raise hands to ask questions/volunteer or if our visits just did not happen to see it. The students sit two-across or four-across with long aisles from the front to the back of the classroom. The only schools where we saw other seating arrangements were the international schools– where desks and tables were arranged many different ways. Do you think the way the seats are arranged in your classroom affects the way you learn and behave?

Snapsnack 2:  Did you know that high quality jade changes color over many years of being worn against human skin? I guess it is the warmth that changes it. The hardest jade comes from a mountain that is only partially in China. It is called jadeite. People in China give jade, not diamonds, when they get engaged. What natural resources from your area are rare? How rare are they? How do people use them? What affects their value?

Snapsnack 3:  The terracotta warriors were not always brown. When they were first excavated, they had brightly painted colors, but the colors faded very quickly once exposed to air. When the Chinese officials figured out that even the experts could not stop the fading, they stopped excavating the warriors. They are waiting to dig up the many thousands more (that they know are still underground) until they have found a technology to prevent the fading. They have consulted experts from around the world. What ideas do you have that might prevent the warriors’ colors from fading? How would you test your ideas?

Snapsnack 4: Most people in the Chinese villages have never had  “land line” telephones. Your grandparents probably still have one, even if your family does not. The people in the villages do have cell phones.  Knowing what it takes to put “land line” telephones into homes vs. making cell phones work in the countryside, why do you suppose most villagers never had landlines? What do you know about the economic level of people in the Chinese countryside villages? What happened in China during the years since cell phones were invented? Can you think of reasons why the villagers’ phones are mostly cell phones?

The picture below shows a village home. What can you tell about what jobs people have in villages?

Snapsnack 5: There are web sites that do not work in China because of censorship, but people still “see” them. YouTube does not work on computers, but it does work on smart phones that have web browsers. Some sites do not work, but people pay to “get around” the censorship using a proxy server service. The cost is about $50/year. Teachers even pay it so they can use some sites with their students. Do you know of censorship that people “get around” or rules that people ignore? What is your definition of a rule that is “made to be broken” vs. one that should be respected and followed?

I hope to share more soon. For now, stay warm — those of you in the northern hemisphere.

Today was our first full day in Shanghai after arriving yesterday afternoon amid a steady snowstorm. The climate here is supposed to be roughly the same as Jacksonville, Florida, so snow is quite rare. The drivers, already insane in China, proved to be the same as U.S. drivers when winter weather hits. The streets were completely gridlocked, making what should have been a 15 minute bus ride (on a chartered bus used to get us to our city locations) last about an hour and fifteen minutes. We ended up having to cancel our plans to have dinner before an acrobat show. Instead, we ran into take out places right by the acrobat theater. We actually had Chinese take-out in Shanghai; that is we had take out McDonald’s! We had to order by pointing at menu items on the countertop pictures, since the people at the counter did not speak English. The cost was about the same as in the U.S., but the sodas tasted a little different, and the menu offerings were slightly different. In other words, it was about as bad as it is at home. They do manage to make the french fries taste the same. Incidentally, we have been offered french fries at a couple of our otherwise Chinese restaurants. I guess they think this is what all Americans eat. Do you have expectations of what people from another country will want if they visit you?

The acrobat show was incredible, but no photos were allowed.  There were about 36 acrobats in all, about 2/3 male. They were teenagers who obviously practice very hard and do very scary things. The smallest boy was about the size of an American third grader, and he was always way at the very top of every dangerous stunt. This troupe is reportedly the best in China. I’d love to know more about the history of acrobats in China. Is there any performance that is famous where you live?

Shanghai is the financial center of China, like Wall Street in New York,  and has grown remarkably in the past 20 years. What was farmland on one side of the river that flows through the city is now a farm of skyscrapers, each more impressive than the last. Architects love to design for Shanghai because it is a real showplace for new buildings.  The people remind me of New York: very fashion conscious, very busy, and accustomed to crowds. There are 20 million people in this city, and it grows more each year! Young people in China like to move here for job opportunities, but the cost of living is very high. I bought the world’s most expensive bag of cookies this afternoon at a coffee bar similar to Starbucks where we stopped to get warm after walking outside on the Bund (waterfront by the river with a view to the skyscrapers). The bag of 24 small cookies cost $15!

As we travel around in public, we see people stare at us, both because we are a group of almost 40 Americans and because certain ones of us look very different from anyone Chinese. The African Americans cause a sensation because most Chinese have never seen anyone with dark skin. The three of us who are blondes are treated as an oddity, too, sometimes making people stop to take our picture . One of the men in our group is about 6 foot 2 or 3, and some Chinese men at the Xi’an airport ran up to him and pantomimed that they wanted to have their picture taken with him because he is so tall. They then “asked” us (by pantomime) to take their picture with an African American in our group and with our group member who has silver gray hair.  We all laughed together even though we could not actually talk to each other. I think the children who swarmed around me in Xi’an did so both because of my blonde hair and because I was American. It is a very funny feeling to be stared at as an oddity, though people are genuinely respectful and cheerful about it.

The rate of change in China is unbelievable. We joke that instead of the 1000 paper cranes of Japanese story fame, China has 1000 construction cranes in each city skyline. Our conversations continually underscore the urgency in China to progress and improve, both for as an expectation for students to learn and improve and for progress and change as a society. They are very proud of the way they can implement new ideas or new building projects. They expect changes to be complete very quickly, almost as a two year old asks, “Are we there yet” two minutes after leaving the driveway. The flip side of this urgency is that when they are not sure how to go about making changes, they seek advice on how to “get it done” very quickly. Our group has been asked for advice on making certain changes in education and use of technology during our visits with universities, schools, and national technology centers working with education.

From our perspective, some of the changes they are asking to make will first require some major shifts in the underlying culture and the culture of Chinese education. For example: schools and teaching in China have always been teacher centered, with a teacher at the front of the class talking while students sit and listen. They sit in rows, never making a sound until called upon. They recite aloud as a whole class. They do not do group projects or sit on the floor, except in very unusual, progressive schools who are trying to replicate models from other countries.

Just as educational technology leaders in the U.S. often struggle to get teachers to integrate technology as a learning tool, so do Chinese educational leaders want to see technology put to effective use. But until the teachers have SEEN and understand a different model of teaching, they will have no way to see the role technology might play. Most of the technology use we have seen has still been teacher-centered: projecting a video or PowerPoint show and then asking questions about it for students to stand and respond. Although this happens in the U.S., too, we are far ahead on student technology use as a learning tool. We have invited Chinese leaders from several places to come to the ISTE conference and to learn alongside this professional group in the U.S. If they are as determined as I think they are, I suspect we will see some Chinese folks with us at the annual ISTE conference in Philadelphia next summer.

A class left a question on this blog a day or two ago about Chinese number systems, so I asked. The Chinese use both roman numbers (1,2,3,4, etc.) and Chinese characters to represent their numbers, but they use the Roman numbers more. These are easier to print. The characters are more like spelled out numbers or number names. I am including a close up of a bulletin board in a Chinese school (click to see it larger). The math facts should look familiar!

The second bulletin board shot shows science work on the human body in both English and Chinese (click to enlarge).

Another topic mentioned to us as something the Chinese want to bring into their schools is creativity. But I could write a ton about that. I also need to tell you about the meeting we had at the distance education center here in Shanghai…and many other tales of adventure.  We have only one more day here, but I hope to spend some time on the long flight home writing up more about our China experiences. Also to come: Shanghai at night, silk museum, laundry, Shawn– our guide and interpreter, pollution, “there is a policy.” Stay tuned.

W: What we want to know

Here are some questions about China that I have received from U.S. and Australian teachers. Feel free to add your own in comments, whether you are a teacher or a student:

• What would they [the Chinese] like us to teach about them? What resources can they offer both on line and hard copy?
• How can we better create strong educational bonds between us?
• Are there any universities there that accept foreign post grads, like us, and yet do so in English and on line?
• What sites do Chinese teachers use to 1) provide resources to students? 2) to connect globally and interculturally on projects? and 3) for Web 2.0 learning?
• Are teachers paid on par with other professionals?
• I would want to know what resources they are using, what they are teaching, and how. I’d like to see us move beyond knowing the “Big C” of culture into the “little c” in order to change our misconceptions and create a more accurate perception.
• I teach early childhood….I would like to see what happens in a China Classroom, what they eat, read, and study.
• I would be interested in knowing more about what the school day is like..do they switch classes, have special area teachers, do they have learning centers or are the more structured? I am really thinking about the primary level.
• What do kids want to know? What’s it like at school? What are you into? How are you the same as me? How are you different? We are human beings. Whether kid, teacher, adult..in roles as parent, teacher, student, athlete, artist, administrator, teacher, specialist, counselor, what do you do? what do you like? what do you use? what works? what challenges do you face? what do you in the face of adversity (financial, administrative, etc etc) to meet the challenges? what would you never want to do without in your class?

In short, most of us want to know,

“What is it like to be YOU?”

“How are you the same as me? How are you different?”

I will try to share the experience of finding out. Stay tuned.

I have so much I want to know about China. Two weeks from now I will be over the Pacific! So I have started to organize my W list of things I Want to know. If you have any you would like to add, please feel free to comment here. Students welcome, too.

Unfortunately, I can’t embed the KWL here interactively because we need to upgrade this version of WordPress. Here is a static version:

And here is a link to the interactive visual map of my KWL. And here are my lists so far, simply in verbal form:

K -What I know:

• Chinese students learn English and like to practice it.
• Chinese history is rich and very complex, much older than the U.S.- Students must have a LOT to study about history!!
• Reportedly, teachers are treated very respectfully.
• High stakes tests determine student opportunities for higher education. The highest scoring students have a chance to study science/math/medicine. The second highest tier study business. Teachers are from the third highest  scoring tier.

W – What I want to know:

• What is a teacher’s day like? A student’s?
• What do teachers and kids wear?
• Do  students ever use computers at school?
• How do schools view technology and the web?
• Would a Chinese class ever do project-based learning?
• Can I explain what TeachersFirst is so they can understand it?
• Will I talk too much for them?
• Can we set up a way for schools in China to communicate easily with U.S. and other classes?
• Do parents help with schoolwork or leave it up to the tutors and late evening school?
• Do parents have any input into what schools do? Do they want it?
• Will I have to eat things that I can’t identify or don’t WANT to know about?
• What web-based tools that I am used to will be unavailable in China?
• Is sense of humor valued/suppressed at school?
• What happens to divergent, gifted thinkers?

L – What I have learned: Watch here and see!

According to neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky’s fascinating piece in the New York Times, “This is Your Brain on Metaphors, “ the structure and sheer size of the human brain give us certain capacities that distinguish us from other animals, most notably:

• the ability to defer reward and engage in long term planning toward long term goals
• the ability to make connections through metaphor and enjoy the experience of mental metaphors as expressed in poetry, oxymoron, and other creative combinations. As Sapolsky explains the delight:

We know, and feel pleasure triggered by … unlikely juxtapositions….Symbols, metaphors, analogies, parables, synecdoche, figures of speech: we understand them. We understand that a captain wants more than just hands when he orders all of them on deck….And we even understand that June isn’t literally busting out all over.

It is precisely this latter capacity that Sapolsky probes further, including the neurobiology of the brain’s responses to analogous  experiences, both real and imagined.  Significantly, both real and imagined sensations are experienced in the same place in the brain. If  we feel disgust at an imagined experience, it triggers the same physiology as disgust at something real, touched or smelled.

What does this mean for our students (and us)  for learning? What about as producers of multimedia experiences (“class projects”)?  Students who do a good job creating an experiential metaphor for the senses — perhaps a glog, a video or an enhanced image — can trigger brain experiences that are as real as the real deal. The better we can trigger the analogies of experience for learning, the better they will “feel” and understand concepts. If we want students to know the Civil War, we should first let them immerse themselves in as many “experiences” of it as we can find. We should also challenge them to create such experiences for others. The mental poetry of both feeling and creating analogies for vital, invisible concepts such as citizenship or atoms can make the experience of learning real. Even the very young can understand simple analogy and experience if it is personal and familiar enough in their context.

Teachers, take the time to read this one. Although Sapolsky focuses more on the international, political implications of analogous brain experience, the analogy of extending such experience in our classrooms is important. We need not make virtual experience realistic. We need to help students trigger analogies, build analogies, and notice analogies. Think like a teacher.