Craig’s Oscar Picks (and what they have to do with teaching)

Craig’s Oscar Picks (and what they have to do with teaching)

We are only days away from the Super Bowl of cinema, the Academy Awards, and if you’re like millions of film fans worldwide, you’re scrambling to the theaters and scouring the streaming video to watch the nominated flicks before the winners are announced.

Everyone’s favorite race in the Oscars each year is no doubt the Live Action Short Film category. In case you are one of the two or three people out there who haven’t seen these five gems, I have decided to devote this week’s WICOR blog to educating you about the nominees so you can be in the know at your Oscar-watching party. I’m also going to tell you what you as an educator can take away from each of these little films to enhance what you do in your classroom.

The first of the nominees is Aya, the story of a woman who, while waiting to pick up someone at the airport, is mistaken for a hired driver and ends up taking a handsome stranger to his destination in a neighboring city. The film boasts some impressive acting from its leads and some sharp and poignant dialogue that turns from witty to heartfelt as the strangers get to know one another throughout the 45-minute film. Teachers watching the movie should remember that providing our students unexpected opportunities can take them places they never planned to go. That’s why the AVID College Readiness System strives to provide students with college experiences, make them aware of programs to meet their needs, and expose them to rigorous curriculum in AP and Pre-AP coursework.  (Craig’s prediction:  Too creepy to win the Oscar, but this was a riveting piece of filmmaking.)

Next on the ballot is Boogaloo and Graham, a gem from Ireland about two young brothers who receive and raise a pair of baby chickens, which they name Boogaloo and Graham. Almost immediately, the chicks transform the boys’ lives, making them more responsible, causing them to announce they are vegetarians (except for burgers and sausages), and providing them incentive to learn everything there is to know about their new pets. The teaching takeaway from this tiny masterpiece is that students learn best when they see relevance to their learning. The boys become experts on chicken behavior, habits, and needs through reading, something we assume they didn’t do much of voluntarily prior to becoming pet owners. Similarly, our own students will read when they see the usefulness or necessity of it. By designing problem-based assignments or allowing students to apply classwork to their own interests, teachers can promote student buy-in. (Craig’s prediction:  If this one wins, it’s because these boys are too stinkin’ cute. Of all the films, this is the heart warmer and sentimental favorite.)

Butter Lamp, from China, provides the least traditional narrative structure of all of the nominees. Imagine watching a day in the life of a family portrait photographer by looking through the stationary lens of his camera as one family enters the screen, the crew sets up the photo, the photo is taken, and the family leaves as another family enters.  Throughout the day, the crew pulls down various backdrops to change the “location” where each photo is taken. At one point, an elderly Chinese grandma who has never been photographed before becomes so enamored with bowing toward the temple depicted on the backdrop that the entire photo shoot is delayed. The lesson learned is that background makes a difference. Some students, like the grandma in the movie, might have limited experiences that make learning challenging. Sometimes, a student’s background might cause the student to view the world or a task differently than the teacher or classmates. A teacher may need to provide extra scaffolding to help a student succeed—perhaps providing more background so a student receives the prior knowledge necessary. Pay attention to your students’ diverse backgrounds; honor that diversity; and do what you can to prevent a student’s background from limiting his or her access to learning. (Craig’s prediction:  This film deserves to win because it was brilliant and a much more creative piece of storytelling than the others; I don’t think the Academy voters will agree with me on this one.)

The Swiss film Parvaneh documents the struggles of a teenage girl from Afghanistan who is seeking refuge in a center in the Swiss Alps. Her attempts to figure out the system are thwarted at every turn as she tries to send some cash home to help her ailing father. Eventually, Parvaneh looks to an unlikely assistant, a tough local girl living on the streets, to help her complete the transaction. Teachers who watch Parvaneh can recall the challenge students face trying to figure out the system for getting into college—applications, financial aid, deadlines, finance, recommendations, etc.—especially without help from a knowledgeable adult who knows the ins and outs of the system. AVID bridges the gap for its students for providing that support. This film also underscores the importance of the C in WICOR: collaboration. Together, Parvaneh and her new companion work to survive and succeed.  (Craig’s prediction:  Beautiful and heartbreaking, this one will tug at the hearts of some Oscar voters. But subtitles scare others away.)

In the British film The Phone Call, the protagonist is a young woman who shows up for her shift at a crisis hotline and answers a call from a widower who has taken pills and just wants someone to talk to as he slips toward death. A nail-biter from the start, this one contains a riveting performance from its lead actress who conveys a myriad of emotions while talking on the phone with the unseen caller, voiced by beloved character actor Jim Broadbent. Your teaching epiphany here is that sometimes students just need someone who will listen to them. We offer support in any way we can. We can try to change them to be the way we would like them to be, but their individual determination is the biggest factor that will shape their success (that’s the ID in AVID, in case you weren’t aware). (Craig’s pick:  Though it was not my favorite, I think this one will take home the Oscar because of the tour de force acting performances, it was easy to follow, and no one had to read subtitles).            

There you have my movie reviews and AVID teaching tips for the week. Maybe you’ll want to catch these five films on your own (you can rent them on Vimeo or seek them at your local art house theater). Enjoy your Academy Awards week, and may all your favorites win!

You Can't Do This, But You Should

Today’s blog is about something extremely important that you probably won’t be able to do. I mean, really great teachers can do it, but not everyone is a really great teacher. If, by some small chance, you are able to do it—and I’m not sure you will—you’re going to find it hard.  Not just a little hard.  Super challenging. Most teachers can’t do this at all. So, if you’re like most teachers—and most teachers are—then this is going to be nearly impossible. Let’s be realistic. You can try if you want, but don’t expect that you should be able to do it. I have absolutely zero faith in your ability to do this.

How’d that feel?

A third of the people who read that paragraph are extremely irate and are determined to read on and prove to me that they can do whatever it is I told them they probably couldn't.

Another third of the readers have already given up, clicked on the X in the top right of the screen, and moved on because they are pretty sure I’m right.

And the rest of them may attempt but will doubt themselves all along the way, and their doubts will hinder their chances of success.

This is what happens when teachers don’t believe in their students. Many of us, as successful adults who've been to college, can look back and identify those people in our lives who were our constant cheerleaders, our most ardent encouragers, our biggest fans. We succeeded partly because of our own abilities and initiative and partly because of those people who believed in us. At times, we've done things we didn't think we could do because of those supporters who knew we could.

Not all of our students have supporters, cheerleaders, encouragers, and fans in their lives. Every day, some receive messages telling them they can’t do it, that they’re not good enough, and that they will have to be content where they are. These students look to teachers to be the ones who believe in them, open doors, and allow them to soar.

Several years ago, I walked into a yoga class at my gym on a Saturday afternoon. I’d been practicing yoga for several years but had never been to that particular class or met that particular instructor. As I walked in, the teacher eyed my middle-aged, not-so-flexible body and said, “Hello. You’re probably going to have a lot of difficulty in this class. It’s really challenging.” I almost picked up my mat and walked out. But instead I adopted the “I’ll show her” mentality and huffed and puffed, sweated and strained my way through the 75 minutes. She was right; it wasn't a breeze. Several of the poses required bending and stamina that was beyond me, but at no point did the teacher offer a word of encouragement or even a validation of my effort. I haven’t been back to her class.

I remember that feeling like it was yesterday. That yoga teacher set up an expectation for failure the moment I entered the room, and I reacted with resentment. Others would respond by feeling defeated before they began. Few, if any, would surpass the instructor’s expectations and achieve at a high level.

I wonder how often as teachers we do that with our students. I sometimes catch myself saying things to them that are less encouraging than I could be. On occasion, I disparage their collective lack of success. And some days, I become that yoga teacher, setting up barriers to success that my students can’t—or don’t want to—get past. I get so caught up with pointing out the bad that I forget to celebrate the good.

My favorite yoga teachers are the ones who praise consistently. The point out the things we’re doing well. They notice effort and applaud improvement. They make their students believe in themselves. And their students sometimes surprise themselves when they realize what they've been able to do.

I began this post by trying to make you feel defeated, but I want to end it with a word of hope.

Think what a difference we can make in our classrooms—in our schools, even—if we show our students every day that we believe in them. As we empower our students, we will all experience and celebrate greater success. We can do this. It only takes a shift in what we say and the way we say it. That’s completely within our control. Let’s make it happen.