writing – lazy 0ch0

Math Stories

In the land of Mathmatica, there are two happily married variables named Xara and Yesod. They lived happily, and they deeply enjoyed each other’s company. One peaceful day, however, the widely-feared gang of Arithmetic Operations suddenly took Xara within their clutches.

That was how one of my students started their Math Story, an assignment I gave students last week. The assignment tasked them with writing a piece of fiction that weaves an Algebra 2 problem into the plot. Students had a choice between eight problems my cogen helped me select, all of which we discussed as a class during the last several weeks. The only other restrictions for the assignment were:

The story has a clear beginning, middle, and end
The story has a problem or challenge that is resolved by the characters
The solution to the chosen math problem is included in the story, with work
The story is at least one page, double-spaced (not including the solution)

I gave students the option to work together, even if it was with students from another class period.

Students write regularly in my class throughout the year. However, asking them to write a short story offers them something entirely different than what I have previously done. With it, I aimed to tap into their creativity and let their imaginations run free, using math as the driving force. I’m truly horrible at unlocking this side of their brains within the context of problem solving. Practically all of what we do daily is grounded in algorithms and procedures. The Math Story was a break from that.

The assignment came as a recommendation from an English teacher at my school. We were at one of our monthly professional cycles discussing literacy across disciplines, and he suggested I try it. I always find myself telling stories at home with kids. It seems natural to bring the idea to school. Why not?

I drafted a version of the assignment and took it to my cogen students. They were into the idea and offered a few pointers to tighten it, like how long it needed to me and when it should be due. They thought it could be fun. I wrote two exemplar stories for the class to accompany the guidelines. Students had one day in class to work on it to help kickstart their writing. Everything else had to be done on their own.

The result was some awesome stories! Sometimes I forget how creative teenagers can be! Here are a few excerpts that do not do the students justice, but will have to suffice for the purpose of this post:

Once upon a time in the realm of Mathlandia, there ruled a king of mathematics known as “King Palacios.” King Palacios wasn’t your ordinary ruler. He didn’t just wear a crown; he wore an oversized calculator as a hat. Also, instead of having royal duties, he had math duties, where people had to pay him $2,000 of gold to get a chance to talk and solve their math problems. People from all over the kingdom came to him with their problems.

There was once a quiet city on the edge of the earth. In this small city, there was a mathematician that people had huge expectations for. You might ask, why? This mathematician was supposed to save the city from a nuclear beam by solving this one equation. The solution would disarm the beam.

Evil Mr. Palacios and Mr. Palacios have a math fight. This was one of the most insane math battles of all time. Their auras grew stronger as the battle continued, improving their math knowledge by a factor of seven. They both expanded their math domains, one of their most powerful techniques. This meant that whoever was stronger would win the battle since being in another’s domain meant being completely vulnerable to any attacks and having no way of fighting back.

Mrs. Yasin had a really hard time solving this problem. First, she replaced p(x) with c(x), but that didn’t work. Then she remembered what her amazing Algebra 2 teacher Mr. Palacios taught her way back when she was in 11^th grade, which is the equation p(x) = r(x) – c(x). This equation shows the relationship between profit, revenue, and cost of owning a business.

There was a trend of students using me (or at least my name) in their stories. As students wrote, they asked for extra credit if they used my name in their story. I don’t give many extra credit opportunities, so why not? It was a fun twist that proved to be worth it. Very memorable!

The cherry on top is that, at the end of the year, I hope that some of my students’ math stories will be included in our class book, Mathematical Voices Volume 5. It’s been a few years since the book welcomed a new writing task, so I look forward to adding it to the compilation.

Math journals and editorial boards, round 1

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Back in October, I wrote about the ambitions I had for journal writing in my class this year. Well, this week the students submitted their first journal. And learning from last year, instead of trying to read 120 multiple-page journals myself, I formed editorial boards in each class where students would peer-review and critique the journals of another class.

How’d it go? Well, the journals themselves were awesome. I’ll have to upload a few at some point. It was obvious that some kids did a rush job, but the majority of them took it seriously and put thought into their reflections.

And everything else? Meh. I seriously underestimated the organizational nightmare of setting up a blind review of the journals. Because everybody knows everybody, I didn’t want the boards to have any impartiality when it comes to seeing a name at the top of the journal (they were all hand-written) and having to assign a grade. Consequently, I scanned the journals, blocked out the name of the author, and reprinted them for the boards to read and assess.

At the same time, I didn’t want the authors to know who reviewed their journal either. So that meant I had to scan the individual review/feedback sheets used by the boards (there was one peer journal), block out the names of the board members, and reprint them for the authors when I returned their journal.

Given the headache that was brought on from organizing this, I didn’t get a clear sense of whether or not the kids valued the process of writing the journals. I’ll have to survey them at some point after they’ve written a few. I’d like to think they appreciate them, but who knows. Plus, I think it’ll be easier for me next time around.

What was cool was that each board had to select 1-2 of the journals they reviewed for “publication.” I’m going to compile a bunch of journals throughout the course of the year into a little book and print it off in the spring.

When I handed the journals back, I publicly celebrated each of the students whose journals were being published in front of the class. They also got this swanky handout detailing next steps. It felt professional although it wasn’t. And it wasn’t the highest performing students whose journals got selected, either. Students who may not get to shine as much as others were spotlighted for their mathematical thinking and writing abilities. This was really, really nice. Best of all, this recognition wasn’t a result of their teacher cheezily trying to boost their morale. Their peers genuinely saw greatness in them and let them know by choosing their journal for publication.

Student as author and critic of mathematics

I’m hoping to improve my students’ journal writing experiences this year. After learning about problem-based journal writing from the work of Joseph Mellor and Carmel Schettino, last year I created/stole a fancy handout, rubric, and told the kids to go write.

I was hopeful for more, but the kids ended up only writing one journal entry. This is totally a result of me assigning in the late in the year, yeah, but mainly because I was too lazy to actually read through them all. I pitifully underestimated how long it would take to read what was essentially 120 essays. English and history teachers out there, I can now finally appreciate your workload. I feel for you.

Fast forward to this year. I’m ready to step my game up. I’m primed to better position my kiddos as authors of mathematics. I tweaked the handout, rubric, and my introductory talk with kids about writing and why it is important — even in math class. Through the journals, they will be formally reflecting and thinking about their own mathematical thinking in a deep-ish sort of way. Just like with the Mathography, I’m pretty sure they’ve never done this before.

One of the key differences this year is that instead of me being the authority figure on providing feedback and grades (and putting this onus on myself for reading ALL those journals), I am forming six editorial boards in each class. Each board will be a yearlong grouping of students who will peer-review the journals.

I got this idea after I read The Art of Problem Posing by Stephen I. Brown and Marion I. Walter this summer. After they’re turned in, I will distribute 4-6 journals to each editorial board, who will use the rubric to do a blind-review (I will remove all names of journals) to discuss, assess, critique, and give feedback on the mathematical writing of the authors. I will have final say on all marks, but I will fully expect integrity, honesty, and fairness from the boards. And by reading through and analyzing so many of their classmates journals, I hope that their own mathematical writing gets better over the course of the year.

I’m really hopeful that they’ll get to write four journals over the course of the year. What’s really cool is that after each round of submissions, each editorial board will select one journal that they read to be published at the end of the year. By “published,” I mean featured in a compilation that I will print out in a little booklet in the spring. It’ll look and feel professional…like this one that I came across at TMCNYC this past summer from Ramon Garcia who teaches at Borough of Manhattan Community College Adult Learning Center: