How do you begin the school year?

[Jami Miksiewicz]

Does anyone use any interesting community building activities in the beginning of the school year? My year usually begins with all the necessaries on day one and a summer reading test on day two. I'm looking for something that will really engage the students and get them talking. Any ideas?

[Tina]

Hi Jami,
I've been thinking about this question a lot lately. I usually refrain from overwhelming students with class policies on the first day, especially because their eyes glaze over after listening to the same thing for five periods from other teachers. I'm going to begin this year with icebreakers that get students talking to one another. My thoughts are to have them do a carousel brainstorm one day and interview each other (and me) on the next. No homework over Labor Day Weekend!

[Nick Senger]

I tell the following story, which I learned from a SuperCamp instructor (It usually changes a bit each year, because I tell it off the cuff, but here are the basic elements. You can tailor it to your situation as needed.):

One day we woke up, looked outside and saw that it was a beautiful day. We had heard about this great town not too far away, and we decided to stretch our legs and go for a walk to this village. We headed out quickly, hoping to enjoy as much of the day as possible. There was a beautiful breeze, the birds were singing, and there was not another soul in sight as we made our way to the outskirts of town.

As we walked we enjoyed each other's company, and the time flew by. We walked up hills and down, following the dirt road that we had heard led to the neighboring village. But after a while, we began to get a bit tired and hungry, and we realized that in our haste we hadn't brought any food with us. The sun began to get higher in the sky, and we wondered how much further the village was.

As we topped a hill, we looked down at the road as it lay before us, trying to see our destination. There was no sign of the village, but we did see in the distance that there was something in the middle of the road. From our vantage point it seemed like a small dot, but there was definitely something in the road. We moved on down the hill, and as we approached, we could see that it was a person, that someone was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the road, head bowed down, facing away from us.

We walked up to him, for we could now see it was man--an aged, brown, wrinkly-skinned man--and looked to see if he needed any help. He just sat there, head bowed down, legs crossed, eyes closed. He looked older than anyone we'd ever seen before. We said, "Are you okay?" but he didn't move at all. Well, we figured he was just out to enjoy the morning, too, and left him to his meditation, or whatever it was he was doing.

As we walked on, we heard a voice behind us, a scratchy, crackling voice that said, "Before you cross the river, grab everything you can." We both spun around, shocked at the sudden words, but there was no one there. The man was gone.

That fairly freaked us out, so that now as we walked, we couldn't help talking about the man, wondering if our minds were playing tricks on us. To make matters worse, the sun was high in the sky now, and we were really beat. The ground began to slope up again, and as we came to the top of another hill, we looked down, praying we would see the village which was our destination, but there was nothing. Just the lonely dirt road. But what was that? As we squinted, we could make out another dot in the road, and we sped up a bit, curious about what it was.

Amazingly, it was another person sitting in the middle of the road, cross-legged. But as we approached, the shape began to look familiar: brown, wrinkled skin, head bowed down, eyes closed. It was the same man! At least, he looked the same.

We asked him his name, we tapped him on the shoulder, we said, "Did you speak to us earlier today?" But he never once responded. He just sat there silently, in the middle of the road. Frustrated, tired and hungry, we finally moved on. But before we took three steps, the hollow voice came again: "Before you cross the river, grab everything you can."

We snapped our heads around, but he was gone. Vanished. The chills traveled up and down our spines, and this time we said nothing as we continued on our way.

Another hill approached, and we made our way up, dreading what we would find when we got to the top. We did not see the village, of course, nor did we see the old man. To our great relief, we saw a beautiful river which crossed the path at the bottom of the hill. We ran down the hill, happy to see such a glorious sight.

[Nick Senger]

---Continuation of the story---

We scooped the water up, splashing it over our faces, pouring it down our dry throats. Finally, it was time to move on. We felt sure that the village was close, now. We found a shallow point in the river at which to cross, but before we took a step, the voice we had heard came echoing back: "Before you cross the river, grab everything you can."

We looked around. There was nothing to grab, just river rocks. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was something else, but we decided to listen to that weird voice, and we began stuffing our pockets with rocks, as many as we could carry. After we had jammed our front and back pockets, we each took a handful, and set out across the river.

Before long, the path begin to wind upward again, and now, besides being tired and hungry, we were burdened with the extra weight of the rocks. But we struggled on, hoping at each new hilltop to see the village below. But several more hours went by, and still there was no village. And we were famished. And exhausted. And these stupid rocks were only making it worse! Why do we have to carry these, anyway? we thought. What a ridiculous idea!

So the first thing we did was drop the rocks we had been carrying. Soon after that we began emptying our pockets, leaving stones by the side of the road. We got rid of most of them, but we were too tired to dig out the little ones on the bottom.

We trudged on and on, and still, the road climbed upward, and now it was getting late. The sun was nearly down when we reached the top of another hill, only to look down and see the lights of the village! We had made it! We ran down the hill, and as the road made its way through the center of the town, we could see light spilling out of the inn, beckoning us inside.

We smiled and entered, treating ourselves to a huge dinner, and getting ourselves rooms for the night. We said goodnight, entered our rooms, and collapsed in the beds, exhausted.

When we got up the next morning and met in the common room, we discovered something very strange. As we put our hands into our pockets, remembered the pebbles that still remained from the day before. But when we pulled the pebbles out*, we found that they were no longer pebbles, but valuable gemstones: rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and sapphires. And as we looked at each other, the same thought occurred to both of us: what if we had kept all those rocks, and not dumped them out!
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*At this point in the story, I reach into my pocket and take out a handful of cheap fabric-store plastic gems and as I continue the story I put a "gem" on each student's desk.

That's the end of the story. I then ask the students what it means. I prompt them with questions like, Who is the old man? What are the rocks that turn into gems? What is the river? What does the village represent?

Someone always ends up connecting the story to the school year, and explaining that the river is like their upcoming graduation in nine months. The rocks are the difficulties they face while they go to school that become valuable to them later. The "rocks" (homework, struggles with friends, etc.) don't look very appealing right now, and they're a burden, but with time they will become valuable gems.

The phrase "Before you cross the river, grab everything you can," becomes a motto or theme for the year.

I've told that story every year since 1995, when I first heard it from Carole Allen, a teacher at Mead High School in Spokane, WA. It has always been well received, and one of the most vivid memories my eighth graders have. I tell them that the gem is my gift to them as they start the year to remind them of the importance of the story.

I've never written down until now. Maybe I should blog about it.

[Jami Miksiewicz]

Wow! I love it. I think you should blog about it.

[cupcake]

I can't do anything terribly important, for lack of a better word, because class rosters shift so much in the first two or three days. Rosters don't settle down until the end of the first week. Heck, I don't even go over classroom procedures until the third day. To do it sooner is a waste of time, because I only have to repeat myself for days to come.

We play "getting to know you" games, and I'm going to start with some early American literature activities that will be easy for newcomers to pick up as they are placed in my class. It's difficult to do anything productive those first few days.

[Dana Huff]

We only have 10 or 15 minute classes our first day, so I have very little time to begin much of anything, but what I do depends on the class. My British lit. classes were both full of kids who have all had me as a teacher at least once, so I don't have to spend a lot of time on procedures and policies -- just discuss any tweaks or changes I have made and emphasize how the class will be different from others they have taken and a little bit about what we will do and learn. My senior elective is full of kids who know me, but have never had me, so I had to explain some of my procedures. My 9th graders are all new to me and to the school, so I go over all that, and then I set them a scavenger hunt so they can learn more about English at my school and also about me. Also, I have them write me a letter of introduction.

We have summer reading at my school, too, so we usually start with that.

[Lisa Huff]

@Nick: I'm speechless. That's the most wonderful opening day activity I've ever heard! How ironic that I just took a break from grading summer assignment reading journals (yes--I've procrastinated: school starts tomorrow!)--reading students comment on Daniel Pink's proclamation of the power of story!

Thanks for sharing. I'm borrowing you're idea. I'm off to Wal-Mart to grab some jewels!

[Kristy Alley]

I go over the syllabus and procedures on day one. Day two, we play the game "two truths and a lie." I tie it into literature by talking about how getting to know new people is just like getting to know literary characters, and that relying on people to tell us the truth is the same as the way we rely on narrators, even though some turn out to be unreliable. Then each of us tells three things about ourselves, one of which is false, and the class tries to guess the lie. I also start learning names this way, and as we go along, I repeatedly go through the room saying the name of each student who has already gone. By the end, I point to every student in the room in order and say all the names. They find this very impressive and it's a fun way to get things started. It sets a nice precedent for engaging discussion, too.