Lessons from the Loom

Back in the day, I remember putting a colored band on my wrist and calling it good. The cool kids would collect like a thousand multi-colored bands and slide them on and off their arms with ease. If I felt creative, I might take a green band and then a yellow band, twist them together and have myself a piece of authentic Oakland A's fan gear. That was 5th grade for me.

Recently, we've seen friendship bracelets, slap bracelets, and Silly Bandz, but the latest fad in wrist decor has found its way into my home 25+ years later with my own 5th grader (and 3rd grader). The Rainbow Loom has arrived; it even fit snugly in the boys' stockings at Christmas time. Raise your hand if you've received one as a gift this school year...

What is it about this new evolution of bands that has kids like my own two boys spending hours of their California 70 degree Sunday afternoon indoors watching how-to videos and making bracelets for themselves and many others?

I've got a few ideas about this and how it can transfer to your classroom. Here are a few Lessons from the Loom, which you may find helpful when organizing your teaching.

Make It Visually Appealing. It's in the name, isn't it? Rainbow Loom. Colors so multitudinous (there's even camouflage kits) they'll make you dizzy. And we all know kids do dizzy. When I was a kid, my friends and I would just spin in circles and then stagger around just for fun! Using this draw for the Rainbow Loom, we teachers pick out colors for our bulletin boards very carefully so that our classrooms make visual sense. We decorate the edges of our worksheets and newsletters with our favorite clip-arts to go along with the theme of our classrooms. We may begin class with video clips or presentations that engage our students from the get-go. We know how visually appealing the media has become and how this intrigues our students (and ourselves). I want to grab students' attention in the same way. Speaking of visuals...

my 5th grader--who I have since found "sneak-looming"

 instead of sleeping

Meet Auditory Needs. When my children are watching a how-to video of a specific type of Rainbow Loom bracelet, they couldn't make sense of it with the volume muted now, could they? My own two boys decided today that being in the same room wasn't working, so they retreated to their own sanctuaries for the simple fact that they wanted to hear the audio instructions of the presenter (who was a kid, mind you). They knew if they missed a piece of the audible instructions, it could prove disastrous for their particular bracelet. Oh to have students in the classroom who hang on every word I say! Perhaps you've mastered this technique, but my middle school students tend to care more about each others' stories than they do mine. I constantly need to readjust my speaking methods to hold my students' attention.

Keep It Structured. Now, I understand that not all students love to focus on the details like I do, but I would be a happier person if they did! Learning how to do something new is a detail-oriented process, and you will notice a very sequential approach when reading through instructions for a board game or for viewing a step-by-step process online. This is the reason my boys couldn't be in the same room at the same time when watching their own videos and making their own bracelets--they didn't want to miss one of the steps. However, if they did, the instruction could be repeated. The beauty of an instructional video is the pause button, not to mention the "rewind" action. So when I give instructions in class, I work to be very clear. Sometimes this occurs at the beginning when I give the sequence of the class period. Other times, it's in written form for project instructions or grading rubrics. Students need the structure, especially if they're in a class with 30 other kids. I want the students to know the direction we're headed, the goal that's ahead of us.

my 3rd grader--who was getting annoyed with the young

presenter who kept asking him to "like" her video

Provide a Clear Goal. I don't know about you, but I personally need something to work toward. Why would I exercise if I didn't have a goal? For some of us, the motivation comes in the form of a race--a half marathon or a 5K mud run. For others, exercise may be simply for a heart healthy lifestyle. Still others may be working toward a degree or certification. The training only matters if you're training for something. In my teaching, I work hard to be clear as to where we're headed in class. You know how students love to ask the question, "Why?" Well, I love to be able to give them an answer to that question...and if you think about it, that's why we set goals in our classrooms; that's why we have identified expectations. In our classrooms, what reasons can we give students to train hard toward a goal? Are we making the learning meaningful? Do the students see a need for our subject material? More importantly, do students see the application of their critical thinking and problem solving within their "training" and how it matters now and in the near and distant future? Within the Rainbow Loom context, kids can literally see the end result ahead of time in pictures and video. They can literally see their progress, a sort of timeline moving forward, and the anticipation can build stronger with each loop until it's "race day" and the bracelet is finished. At that point, just as in a finished race, there is a feeling of accomplishment, a "medal", a "badge of honor" if you will. If that doesn't serve up further motivation, I don't know what does.

Keep It On a Small Scale. Making a bracelet on a Rainbow Loom isn't such a huge task that it seems too daunting to attempt in the first place. Though it may take a some time to figure out, kids go through these bracelets quickly with a bit of practice. And though there may be some frustration when a mistake is made, because it's on a small scale, the mistake can be easily reversed, or the student can view the lesson as learned and start over, knowing that the next time through will be easier and quicker. I saw a lot of perseverance in my boys in their creations, and I think it's because the projects are broken up into smaller pieces. I can take that lesson and apply it to my classroom when I assign projects of my own. Breaking up the project into smaller pieces makes it much more manageable for the kids, and keeping them on pace continues to allow for clear progress toward a goal. Many of those little bands break on the loom, but the mistake is small, and this provides for a smaller solution as well. Again, less daunting for the kids.

Give Choice. First of all, I'm different from you. Secondly, that's a good thing...for both of us; we are both unique individuals. Looking at our students as individuals every day is tough to do, but necessary in our profession. Because I'm unique, I have a different set of interests, viewpoints, dreams, problems, and values than you; and I most definitely have different avenues in which I prefer to reach my goals based on my nature and my nurture. The students are the same way. The Rainbow Loom gives a lot of choice. I've already stated the plethora of colors and color combinations and the dizzying effect these can have for me. But the students also have varying tastes and interests. What's great about the Rainbow Loom is that there are many different bracelet styles and difficulties from which to choose when creating. You have fishtail, starburst, waterfall, and ladder...and those are just the ones off the top of my head. My 5th grader is attempting more difficult styles than my 3rd grader, which makes perfect sense. Similarly, we teachers know we have different skill levels in our classrooms. Why do we continue to make our students reach the goal we have set for them, each in the same exact way? I suggest, along with many other educators, that we make projects about the verb and not the noun. Instead of telling the students to do a PowerPoint, I think we should tell students to present their information using a tool of their choice. Aerosmith said it well: "Life's a journey, not a destination." I say, "Each student's journey should be their own."

Provide the Proper Tools. The Rainbow Loom comes with all you need: a loom, a hook, some bands, and some starter instructions. Add a bit of elbow grease, and you're good to go! Simply put, we should get the right tools in the students' hands. These often need to be taught. For example, if all I've taught is PowerPoint, then I shouldn't expect a lot of variety in the end presentations, or even the process. Once students understand other tools like Prezi, Google Presentations, iMovie, or other presentation possibilities, more choice is possible. Giving students access to a wider array of tools encourages more innovation in the end product, whatever it may be.

Allow for Innovative Creation. Sure, the Rainbow Loom holds specific outcomes, but the practice and repetition involved in making a bracelet designed by somebody else will lead to a new and innovative technique for a brand new model. In essence, isn't that how these bracelets came about anyway? Didn't somebody end up pulling ideas from friendship bracelets, Silly Bandz, and other places to create a new fad for our children? Perhaps my own two boys will learn to make a design of their very own. I would hope that's what they're learning to do in school: using present strategies and practices taught to them by their teachers so that they can build on these for their own futures. Our world continues to change at an alarming pace, and I want my students, not to mention my own children, to have the skills necessary to innovate their world.

I was thinking of titling this post "Perseverance". Well, I thought that would be a bit boring, but in the end I think that's what I want for my boys; that's what I want for my students. I want those who are under my care to learn how to deal with hardship, in whatever form it comes. I want them to set goals and believe that they can be accomplished. When they succeed, I want them to be proud of their success and use that success to their advantage for the future. When they fail, I want them to learn from that failure and try again. How can I teach perseverance to those under my care? Based on my observations of my boys spending hours indoors during an unseasonably warm January afternoon when I should have taken them on a bike ride, I could see that there was something deep down that sparked this perseverance, even when a band broke, or when the video was interrupted, or when it got confusing and tough. I believe we can take lessons from the Rainbow Loom, among other things (video games, for example), and analyze the journey toward perseverance, the route toward a determined grit. As teachers, we can meet the students' visual and auditory needs; we can present clear structure and end goals; we can keep things on a small scale and allow for choice, giving students the tools needed to finish a job well done. Building motivation toward innovative creation should prepare our youth for the future problems they will need to solve.

What other lessons can you take from the perseverance your students demonstrate? Where do they get this grit? How can you teach toward it in your class? Comment if you'd like.

Table Top Experiences

Have you realized true rewards in your teaching? Have you noticed the route you took to make it happen? What role did your students play?

During my freshman year in college (a long time ago), my buddy and I took a road trip with his older brother and friend to the Southwest for our Spring Break. After traveling over a thousand miles from Michigan to Colorado, we hiked up St. Mary's Glacier, mountain bikes on our backs, sweating in the sunshine. The journey was draining, but wow what a view when we reached the top!

credit: Jon Cook

A few days later we biked the Slick Rock Trail in Moab, Utah, and trekked through part of Arches National Park; we spent the day gaining in elevation, up, up, up. I didn't think I had it in me to make it through the day, but after arriving at Delicate Arch, there was a sense of giddy pride as we explored the deeply bowled area surrounding the beautiful monument.

credit: alierturk.deviantart.com

As if we hadn't had enough adventure on our trip already, we traveled through Mesa Verde National Park (Spanish for "Green Table") with its ancient cliff dwellings, settled into a relative's house for the night in Rehoboth, New Mexico, and during dinner, decided to climb the random mesa we spotted in the distance the following morning. This isn't the mesa we saw, but you get the picture.

credit: indigenousknowledge.org

Sure enough, we got up early, drove over, and parked at the bottom. I don't remember the climb that well, except that it was grueling. I do remember the "table top experience": we were in the midst of a significant, green expanse of trees, and we ambled across the flat top of the mesa from one side to the other, exploring what we'd never known before. Arriving at the far edge, we viewed the awe-inspiring landscape spread out before us. What a sight!

This is the journey we're on. We put in the work, often times with blood, sweat, and tears, as we groan with the effort to reach new levels in our teaching. Doesn't it seem to always be an upward climb? And there really is no guarantee that our students will follow our leading. Will our children climb with us? Will they hike up the mountain, often with heavy loads to carry? Will they click through the correct gears for the ascent? Will they use the handholds and footholds we're pointing out to them?

I continue to climb that wall with my class so that we can look with faith at our world.

I hope you've all had your table top experiences--your rewards for all your painstakingly hard work. Remember that view! When you stand on your particular wall, take note of how far you've come, and make sure your students know what they've accomplished. Rejoice in your reward.

I've had days in my teaching when I've scrambled and clawed my way to reach that summit, taken a breath, and looked out at the wonderful scenery below. I've turned around and noticed the steep road I conquered and felt proud. Those days it seems I can do anything I set my mind to. But where do we go from there? We've got to descend.

That Colorado glacier wasn't all that solid. As I biked down, my front tire kept sinking into the snow, causing me to flip over the handle bars...not once, but many times. That multi-mile road descent from the height of Arches National Park was exhilarating but extremely nerve-wracking at the speeds we hit. And that climb down the mesa was the scariest experience of my life. To make a long story short, I envisioned my youthful 19 year-old life coming to a rocky end with one mis-step and was frozen with fear for a good 10 minutes before I braved the next foothold down. But I survived and am better for it.

The descent takes courage. After the difficulties of the research, the prep, the plans, the implementation, the assessment, the management, the communication, the standards, you know...that upward climb...you just might gain the well-earned perspective you've been striving toward with your students. Take your time breathing in the beauty of it all. And remember how you got there. Then you can descend with courage, knowing that you can do it all over again.