Borderland

We started germinating seeds in the classroom a few days ago. Since the growing season outdoors is closing down, we’ll grow some on the window ledge. The science objective is to have students observe differences between monocotyledons and dicotyledons, and so they’re germinating beans and corn in wet paper towels. But I have another, more general, objective for them to learn what it means to inquire. And for that, they are learning the language of science.

The kids watered the paper towels with the beans and corn folded into them for a few days, and then Friday they looked at the seeds. They noticed that many of the beans were opening, and that little spouts were coming out. They also noticed that the germinating seeds were larger than they’d been in the beginning. The kids concluded that the seeds were soaking up water.

One student asked whether they’d grow if they weren’t put in soil.

Ahh, you’ve asked a “what if” question. Very good, I said. This is exactly how scientists think. They notice differences when things change, and they ask themselves why. That’s what we’ve done here. The seeds are bigger, and you think that’s because they soaked up water. You made an inference, a conclusion based on evidence. You didn’t see them soak up water, but you think that might be why they’re bigger. You could test this idea.

And you have another testable question. Does anyone have an idea of how we could do an experiment to find out if plants need dirt to grow?

We could try planting one in dirt and leave one in the paper towel, and see what happens.

Yes. Excellent idea for an experiment.

Can we do that?

Well, yes, I think that would be a good idea. What do you think will happen?

Some possibilities were suggested, and we discussed how we’d do this little experiment. They didn’t know that we were going to do it anyway, but now that they’ve asked the question, we’re doing an experiment.

While the kids are busy learning about seeds and plants, and plant classification, they’re also learning about the scientific process.

My larger goal is for students to become aware of their own thinking, and learn to inquire about all sorts of things, not just plants. I wrote the words, ‘differences’ and ‘inferences’ on the board, and I explained that when we observe something changing, and attempt to explain it – even to ourselves – we’re doing science, thinking scientifically. One reason for sharing the language of science with them, explicitly, is so that they can learn to talk about how they know things, and to bring “knowing” to a conscious level.

Neil Postman, in Language Education in A Knowledge Context makes a case for teaching language in the context of its use, which is an axiom of whole language philosophy, but he doesn’t use that term. He argues that

…the improvement of reading scores is not, in any sense, a legitimate educational goal, and in my opinion it is shocking that so many people accept it as such. Reading abilities (it is plural, not singular) are not and cannot be measured by the techniques presently used to produce a reading score. The sort of technicalization represented by such procedures demeans our concepts of learning, intelligence, and language, not to mention reading itself.

He isn’t challenging the legitimacy of teaching reading, but questions the technical focus on test scores, and asks why, as a matter of policy, we remain indifferent toward “writing, speaking, listening, question-asking, and other manifestations of human intelligence.”

Following Postman’s recommendation and my own intuition, I am treating science this year as a language environment in which we will not only think about what we are learning but how we are learning. The kids are enjoying this. One of them even wrote a science poem.