The Creative Classroom by Mitchell Lopate, M.A.T. = Academic humanities advising-mentoring, tutoring, writing support: 25 years college & university and middle-elementary education in-class/online with a B.A. in psychology and a masters in education. (PS: it's fun.) Cross-curriculum humanities concepts, career counseling, MBA instruction, composition and research methods, and values, ethics, and writing. “Learn by example, succeed by effort." mitchLOP8@yahoo.com / 840-216*1014
Saturday, July 27, 2024
Get the word bird math problems here for science and teaching!
Monday, July 22, 2024
Alaska final exam (8th grade): Monitored survival in the field for science credits
This is about a final exam for 8th grade students in Alaska. They spend 48 hours on an island to finish the class--and have to forage for food--AND cook it. This story is also dedicated to the 12th grade students in Finland, who lead the world in education. They have to design a virus AND a cure for their science final exam. This is also dedicated to all the education publishers and all the people who insist that "standardized tests are the best way to evaluate progress." Yeah, sure. That's why I wrote a book about creative education. Go sell your ideas to someone else who doesn't have the experience or know better to question why. The same for you administrators who talk about measuring results. Tell me about "curriculum and state standards."
I was stationed on the Aleutian Island of Adak--and no trees except for those planted by visitors in a small area--from 1977-1978. I went to Anchorage for a break. I know about the 100+mph winds: the "williwaws." They could pick you up off the ground for a good four feet if you were small enough and opened your coat like a sail. I ate caribou, and halibut: fish the size of a small car that were hauled up in boats that trawled for them. I saw the midnight sun and the midnight day, and the Northern Lights. I saw live volcanoes just miles away and no fast way off the island if they erupted. I saw bald eagles fly off with two swoops of their wings. Alaska is an amazing place--and it's not for those who want an easy life.
I met someone on Adak from my Long Island, NY, high school (Class of '71), who later adopted a girl from Nanchang, the same city in China where I found a job as a teacher. No such thing as coincidences, eh? I also went to Anchorage and drove on the Al-Can Highway going to Canada. Not easy. And I saw the lost town that was swallowed up in the great earthquake of 1964. I remembered reading about that as a kid after it happened.
If you want to REALLY know about this amazing wilderness, read travel writer Peter Jenkins' book, "Looking for Alaska" on Amazon.com. He even took his family there. Or if you like fictional/non-fictional history, read James Michener's "Alaska."
From https://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2019/06/alaskan-science-class-exam-wilderness-survival/590890/
BACK ISLAND, ALASKA — “Oh my god, I feel like a murderer,” exclaimed 13-year-old Bonnie Bright. “I’ve killed so many things on this trip.”
Sporting pigtails, glasses, and Xtratufs—the brown neoprene boots affectionately called “the Alaskan sneaker”—Bright didn’t look like a serial killer. Yet in her hands was her latest victim: a chubby sea cucumber the color of burnt umber. Bright cleaved the slippery echinoderm down the middle, then removed several white slivers of meat and cooked them over a fire she’d built. It was time for breakfast.
All around her, on the rocky gray beach, 19 of Bright’s classmates were performing similar drills. In total, the Coast Guard had dropped 103 Schoenbar Middle School students—the majority of Ketchikan, Alaska’s eighth graders—on six nearby uninhabited islands to survive for two days and nights last May. I’d accompanied Bright’s group to Back Island, where, like the rest of their classmates, students had each brought nothing more than a 10-by-15-foot sheet of plastic, a sleeping bag, clothing, and whatever additional supplies (rice, knives, foil, twine, matches) they could fit into a 12-ounce metal coffee can.
“The survival trip,” as it’s known in this isolated island community, has occurred annually for 45 years. It serves not only as the students’ final science exam but also, more importantly, as preparation for growing up in the unforgiving wilderness they call home.
Sitting at a square table in Schoenbar’s library last year, Stephen Kinney, the mind behind the trip, told me that he had no idea it would become such a long-standing tradition. The amiable retired educator said his main goal had simply been for students to enjoy school (because growing up, he never had).
“Learning should be fun,” Kinney, 77, explained. (He and everyone else in this story are identified with their age as of last year’s survival trip.) “There needs to be some kind of a hook. [Students] need to be involved in their education.” He recalled the time he found a dead sea lion and brought it to his science class for dissection; decades later, students still mention it when they see him around town. “That’s a really critical piece of education: to catch students’ imagination, to grab them,” he said.
Kinney, who grew up in Maine, moved to Ketchikan in 1965 to teach eighth-grade science at the brand-new Schoenbar Middle School. The lifelong outdoorsman was surprised by how many of his students didn’t know basic survival skills, such as how to build a shelter or start a fire. So in 1973, along with a fellow teacher, Don Knapp, he brought a group of eighth graders to Settlers Cove, a state recreation area 18 miles north of Ketchikan. “Our goal was to have them live off the land,” Kinney said. “To realize that the land provides if you understand it.”
That was the Ketchikan students’ very first survival trip. In the years that followed, more students and teachers joined. When Kinney and Lyle Huntley, another eighth-grade teacher who’d become the trip’s co-organizer, both transferred to the seventh grade, they brought the concept with them. They launched an annual two-night camping trip that taught basic outdoor education in preparation for the big eighth-grade trip the following year.
Today, both grades spend the last six to eight weeks of the school year on a Southeast Alaskan science unit—environmental science in seventh grade, and safety and survival in eighth grade—that culminates with each grade’s much-anticipated overnight adventure. (While students aren’t required to go on the trips, the majority do. The school does not allow students who have significant behavioral issues or who are failing three or more classes to attend.) Other teachers integrate the themes into their curriculum at the end of the school year, too: For their final English project, for example, the eighth graders must choose a book set in Alaska.
“It’s so Ketchikan,” Kinney says. “I mean, Ketchikan is living outdoors, is hiking, is fishing, is boating, is being out there. And so learning to do it safely makes a lot of logical sense, but also was a lot of fun.”
On a crisp sunny day last spring, the U.S. Coast Guard ferried Ketchikan’s eighth graders to their respective islands. Each group consisted of approximately 20 students (separated by gender), one teacher leader, and three or four parent chaperones. (For safety, the adults had access to cellphones and radios—the kids did not.)
On Back Island, the leader was 29-year-old Jamie Karlson, a sprightly music teacher with a pixie cut and a quick laugh. Right away, she directed the students to find shelter. In groups of four, they headed to the woods and employed techniques they’d learned in class: draping plastic sheets over twine strung between evergreens, and wrapping rocks along the edges to weight them down. Shelter secured, they played cards, gossiped, and hid from one another during a round of sardines, exhilarated with the freedom of being outdoors on a school day.
Later in the afternoon, Karlson blew her whistle three times, signaling the students to assemble on the beach. “You have 10 minutes to collect tinder, kindling, and fuel, and then it’s time to gather food,” she said.
Karlson wanted the students to begin searching for food several hours before that evening’s 8:08 p.m. low tide, explaining that “it’s best to forage things as they're getting uncovered.” Since Southeast Alaska has some of the biggest tides in the world, changing as much as 25 feet in six hours, each year’s survival trip is timed around lower-than-average “minus tides,” which provide the best opportunities for foraging.
The girls scattered, gathering wood and old-man’s beard, a pale-green lichen that makes a good fire starter. One of the chaperones, Tony Yeisley, approached his daughter Savannah. In his hands was an unruly clump of dried moss, cedar, and seagrass. “That’s going to light up like a Roman candle,” he told his daughter with a grin. An easygoing plumber who plays the electric guitar, Yeisley had already been on four survival trips: his own, 34 years prior, and three of his four older children’s. This trip, with his youngest, could be his last.
When it came time to forage, the students seemed unsure how to begin. They cautiously fanned toward the tideline, scanning for anything that looked edible. Gabriella Mas decided to look for limpets, tiny marine snails that cling to intertidal rocks. But about 15 seconds into her hunt, she shouted, “There’s none!” Karlson called out, “They’re tricky; look closer to the water.” A few moments later, Mas exclaimed to her partner, “Oh my god, there’s so many here. There’s like a million—use your knife!”
Limpets, easy to spot and pry from their perches, turned out to be the protein of choice for many students’ first meal. Most of the girls boiled them with rice and bouillon cubes from their coffee cans, along with a variety of sea lettuces salvaged from the shore. (One lettuce called “sugar rack” was unanimously declared to sound better than it tasted.)
On the horizon, seals peeked out of the water, and a humpback whale swam by with her calf. Enormous bald eagles skirred overhead. The girls relaxed quietly around the fire, or in their shelters, before tucking into their sleeping bags at 10 p.m., just as the last rays of light faded from the sky.
The first Alaskan city along the famed Inside Passage, Ketchikan is known for several things: commercial fishing (77 million pounds of salmon, halibut, and other seafood passed through its docks in 2017, according to the National Marine Fisheries Service), rich Native American culture (it’s home to the biggest collection of totem poles in the state), and cruise ships (more than 1 million passengers visit each summer).
It’s also famous for its “liquid sunshine.” Located in the 16.8 million acre Tongass National Forest, the largest remaining temperate rain forest in the world, the region’s lush mountains and streams are fed by an average of 152 inches of rain each year. (By comparison, neighboring Seattle averages 37 inches.) Strong winds are common too; in 2018, a winter storm clocked gusts of 112 mph.
While the land area of the Ketchikan Gateway Borough (Alaska’s administrative equivalent of a county) is larger than Connecticut, it has just 13,754 residents. When considering both land and water, a mere 0.1 percent of the borough is inhabited, according to Jonathan Lappin, an associate planner for the borough.
This combination of extreme weather and extreme remoteness is why many view survival education as a vital part of Ketchikan’s curriculum. Sam Pflaum, a 29-year-old electrical worker and commercial fisherman, told me that the eighth-grade trip was “the most useful thing” he did in school, saying: “It probably has saved my life.”
He cited the night of December 27, 2012, as an example. While he was on his way home to Ketchikan, the pull cord snapped off his boat’s engine. It was nearly dark, so Pflaum and his companion decided to spend the night on the beach. In the 15 minutes of daylight that remained, buffeted by wind, rain, and snow, they managed to light a fire and set up a shelter—skills Pflaum had learned a decade prior. Despite experiencing 50-mile-per-hour gusts, a foot of snow, and hypothermia, they made it through the night.
To Pflaum, the survival trip is an indispensable part of growing up in Ketchikan. The skills acquired, he explained, are “not something that just grows dust in the back of your brain”; they’re something many residents use. “[In] a lot of places, the wilderness is somewhat canned—it’s in a park or whatever—but up here this place is still pretty wild,” he said. “It’s the most beautiful place on Earth, but it will kill you.”
The sun rose at 4:30 a.m. on the survival trip’s second day. At 7:30 a.m., Karlson roused the students; low tide was a little more than an hour away, and they needed to scavenge their breakfast. Hungrier and more confident than they’d been the day before, the girls were ready to expand their boundaries beyond limpets. The husky sea cucumbers were tempting, but the young survivalists had no idea how to turn them into food.
The chaperone Brett Summers took charge. Summers, a lifelong Ketchikan resident who was there with his daughter Piper, wore Dickies jeans under his Xtratufs and a baseball cap over his black ponytail. As several students gathered around, he pulled a knife from his belt loop and cut a six-inch cucumber open. A gush of seawater poured out, revealing its spindly guts. The girls peppered Summers with questions and concerns: “Ugh, why is that happening?” “Is that his butthole?” “It looks like spaghetti!” “Does that hurt?” His response: “Eat it—it won’t kill you.”
Hunger, indeed, soon vanquished squeamishness. Pairs of girls ventured off to different parts of the island; within 10 minutes, they pranced back to camp with their prey draped across their arms.
Karlson, who jokingly referred to the cucumbers as her “breakfast bacon,” fluttered between groups, answering questions and observing dynamics. She would, eventually, have to grade each student in 10 categories, including fire building, shelter arrangement, staying dry, cooking food, common sense, and attitude. “It’s fun to see them out here in a totally different environment,” she told me. “They have to work together in ways they probably never would in a classroom.”
All told, the morning’s haul was impressive: In addition to limpets and sea cucumbers, the girls tracked down gumboots, rock scallops, urchins, red rock crab, and tiny shrimp. They had also grown more adventurous with their recipes; one group even created seaweed “wraps” filled with rice and sea cucumber. One student, Makena Johansen, admitted that foraging was easier than she thought it would be, and that the sea cucumbers tasted better than she’d imagined. “Yeah,” added Wileena Baghoomian, another student; “At first they were gross, but now they’re kinda good.”
The rest of the day was spent on a fire-building contest, a hand-built stretcher race, a talent show, and, of course, more foraging. Despite their growling stomachs, the students’ morale remained high. Many conversations centered around food—one student, Julia Spigai, said she’d never again forgo a box of leftovers at a restaurant—but they didn’t complain much.
They seemed to understand that the discomfort was part of the 45-year-old rite of passage their friends, siblings, and parents had all completed. “They’re preparing you for living in Alaska so you know you’re not gonna die,” Savannah Yeisley said matter-of-factly. “A lot of people don’t think they could get stranded, but it happens.”
Around the campfire that night, the chaperones actually lamented the unusual abundance of sun; they worried the good weather was making the trip less challenging for the kids. “It’s not as much of a survival trip in this weather,” said Todd Bright, a stay-at-home dad who had been on two prior trips (his own, in 1987, and his older son’s). “Out here you’re not going to starve—it’s the rain and cold you’ve got to worry about.”
That tough Alaskan attitude permeates the culture of the survival trip, and is shared by students, parents, and even those responsible for orchestrating the event. “You can’t help but think of all the things that could go wrong—but they haven’t,” says Sherilynn Boehlert, the principal of Schoenbar Middle School. “They’re going to be hungry, and they’re going to be fine.”
In this age of helicopter parenting and standardized exams that require teaching to the test, it is hard to believe Ketchikan’s survival trip has, well, survived for so long. Yet despite the massive commitment involved—especially on the part of teachers, who aren’t paid extra for their time—no one seems to question the importance of the trip, or the likelihood that it’ll continue for another four decades.
Talk to people from Ketchikan for long enough, and they will invariably recall their own trip: the rain and wind, the sweet Dungeness crabs, the after-dark incidents that caused the trips to stop being coed (everyone wants to take credit for that). Kinney, who’s probably been on more survival trips than anyone, tells vivid stories of eighth-grade girls skinning an octopus on a tree branch, the chaperone who brought—and slaughtered—a chicken one year, or the time it snowed “three to five” inches during the trip. In this town, the survival trip is education, yes, but it’s also history, community, and tradition.
“Education constantly needs to go back to where the real world is, and tie what you're learning into what really life is all about,” Kinney said. “That's a part of why the survival trip strikes such a rich chord with people. Students learn by doing—by seeing life.”
Wednesday, July 17, 2024
MBA risk management: knowing the options and how they may work for you
Also: Meet the real business environment--and it's SCORCHING.
Allow me, please, because I know a recent MBA graduate who was in my first class--with a background strongly in finance--and he and I talked about the Capstone class. The final class you take. And he told me that (1) there were students who did NOT have a strong finance background, and (2) he had to bail them out.
How/why? Each WEEK, YOU AND YOUR TEAMMATES in a group have to use one week = one year of making money for a company. The team that makes the MOST money gets the best grade. Are we clear on this? And you can imagine how you're going to feel if in your team SOMEONE doesn't have the chops to fulfill his/her portion of responsibility. Therefore...
From a movie in 2008; "Margin Call"; which really does indicate the background and aftermath of the mortgage industry crash that took down Shearson-Lehman Brothers brokerage--here's a boardroom business environment sequence of events. Just be aware that I told you so. And note this: the CEO is VERY aware of everything--including that he has @ a $70 million-dollar-salary that he's NOT going to lose, and that he knew about this problem with bundling mortgage packages from the start. And he wants to see who in his team will speak up--or not. I use this lesson in 707 for a reason, and in 711, it's just as valid as it will be in the capstone class. If finance isn't your game, you STILL will see it. That's also why I emphasize risk management--which IS part of these movie clips. It's the role of the guy in the blue tie who is just as much to blame--but saves HIS job. And the poor guy who's the sales manager wants OUT at the end--but he NEEDS the money--and the CEO has him where it hurts.
Business Environment 711, at your leisure. (My apologies ahead for any offensive language in the videos; I did not write the script. But I am sure the conversation is quite real.)
==================================================================
Healthcare risk management: https://duckduckgo.com/?q=healthcare+risk+management+training&t=opera&ia=web
HR Risk Management – A LOT of you should look
here: https://www.google.com/search?client=opera&q=HR+Risk+manageme&sourceid=opera&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8.
Plus,
PDF. NCISPRIMER_Erven_RoleofHRMinRm.pdf
Operational Risk Management: https://www.google.com/search?client=opera&q=operational+risk+management+certification&sourceid=opera&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8
Insurance risk
management: https://www.irmi.com/industries/insurance-industry/insurance-risk-certifications & https://www.aicpa-cima.com/cpe-learning/course/risk-management-and-insurance-planning-certificate-program
Tuesday, July 9, 2024
Follow the falling...cereal boxes?
("Mr. Lopate, what is your class science project about? What does it emphasize?") Me: "Gravity. Physics. Newton's Law of Motion. Enthusiasm."
Monday, June 24, 2024
Preparing for a two-year or four-year college/university plan
First: PLEASE consider a community college. It will save you a LOT of money, and allow you to learn about the demands of a college schedule for classes, the choice of working a job and managing your life. You can get MUCH better grades and then transfer to the four-year school that you wanted. Your diploma at graduation will be from the 4-year school, and you'll be happy, wiser, and better prepared for choices.
Monday, June 17, 2024
Lazy Chip Remote Door Opener designed by 4 Jiangxi University students
Thursday, June 13, 2024
Thursday, June 6, 2024
Fluid Learning for Research Topics & Career Planning
In this example, someone has just asked me to help them find an idea for an assignment--or they have just graduated from college and are trying to identify their career plans and goals. The mention of "environmental studies" is the key.
My first response to this individual: "Let's use the 4 Elements as guiding points to help you identify where your interests are, and which one best suits your answer." After that is established, I then take each element and its nature, then apply a range of ideas that may be suitable. For example:
Air: (Air) pollution - management of hazardous waste gases; quality of air control in residential or commercial locations
Water: Potable water supply and management; ocean pollution and recovery; oil & natural gas spillage-recovery
Fire: Recycling garbage for fuels
Earth: Alternative fuel sources; landfill management and soil reclamation; ecosystem preservation and recovery; animal and wilderness preservation
Do you have a subject or topic you'd like to see mixed-and-matched with the 4 Elements? Try Fluid Learning techniques and methods--or if you're in need of something different, write and ask me!
Monday, June 3, 2024
Words of wisdom from Adam and Eve (and Mark Twain)
Words of wisdom from the Original First Lady, Eve, by way of Mark Twain, from Letters from the Earth.
Saturday, May 25, 2024
A lesson in Critical Thinking--and the OODA Loop
I've mentioned Critical Thinking as a process to solve problems, to resolve issues; to handle disputes, and to effectively manage both personnel and businesses. Let me share a video about the Ooda Loop, which was the basis of a fighter pilot who claimed (and correctly so) that he could evade an enemy pilot trying to target him WITHIN 60 SECONDS. That meant this individual used Critical Thinking to not only save his life, but to GET THE JOB DONE. And sometimes, it takes Critical Thinking and ANALYSIS to do so.
In the movie Margin Call, which I share with my MBA students, at the boardroom meeting, the CEO says to his Chief Financial Officer, "It's 4:00 [a.m.}. You have until 5:00 {a.m.} to break this down and get me out a plan {of action to liquidate assets that are toxic in volatility to the company}." And the CFO nods because there is no other course of action other than to do what he's told!
THEN the CEO asks who else knows about the nature of the company's problems. He's informed by the Chief Risk Officer AND the CFO that this individual is no longer employed--and the CFO adds that they have been trying to locate him. The CFO turns to another person--whom we don't know in official capacity--and tells him by name, "Get me {this individual"} here by 6:30 a.m., AND THE MAN AGREES TO THE REQUEST. HE DOESN'T COMPLAIN, ARGUE, OR CHALLENGE THE REQUEST. HE WILL GET IT DONE.
My point in this: are you capable of getting the job done even if it is an obvious challenge? I mean this in life as well as management or any other profession you choose. I'm also saying with just about 70 years of experience: Life will and does throw challenges at all of us. What are you willing to do in order to solve problems that may only be temporary distractions? ESPECIALLY if you want to run your own company/business or you want to work for someone else--WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO DO IF IT REQUIRES CRITICAL THINKING SKILLS AND ACTION?
I'll share with you a real-life event that happened to me when I was teaching public speaking at Jiangxi University in China @spring 2017: my students were not listening to me that day and totally distracted from my lesson. And that was enough to agitate me to ask what and why--because it was against my standards of behavior. And they said, "We are sorry, but our next class is up in 20 minutes, and we don't understand the assignment. Our professor is VERY strict {yes, they, as students, could be and were physically and verbally abused for failure}."
So I made an immediate decision: "Put aside everything for me, and let me see this assignment." It was about finance--and it was several pages of a handout. I read it quickly: "Assess and describe the implications of 'A Double Dutch Twist with an Irish Treat' regarding Apple, Inc., and taxation procedures."
Huh? Well, first, I don't teach finance, nor is it an area of my interest nor expertise. BUT I CAN READ AND COMPREHEND TEXT AND DOCUMENTS. (I once had to proofread a friend's Ph.D. analysis of animal husbandry/management for the effective production of pigs. I also have no background in that--but I could understand from what she wrote.) So what I did was to break down the finance assignment BECAUSE I COULD READ AND UNDERSTAND THE MESSAGE BEHIND THE PACKAGE GIVEN TO THE STUDENTS because I could critically think about what I was reading.
In short: Apple, Inc., was rerouting pre-tax capital gains through two banks in the Carribean islands owned by the Netherlands (Dutch) country. After they were "processed," the monies were then sent to a bank in Ireland--and THEN re-routed back to Apple, Inc., at a lower tax rate. "A Double Dutch Twist with an Irish Treat." And my students were so thankful that I had not only solved their confusion at the title but also the value of the lesson ahead--and possibly spared them from some physical pain and worse.
And I also told them: "DON'T tell the professor in the next class that I helped you. Tell him that YOU all figured it out yourselves. Let HIM think that you're smarter, better, and prepared." Oh, you'd better believe that they were grateful. And I was thankful for the chance to help--and also that I had learned again how valuable critical thinking skills could be. My point is simple: I had 20 minutes to solve the needs for my students.










