I teach chemistry.
Une jap kimi.
(Explosion)
(shperthim)
All right, all right. So more than just explosions, chemistry is everywhere. Have you ever found yourself at a restaurant spacing out just doing this over and over? Some people nodding yes. Recently, I showed this to my students, and I just asked them to try and explain why it happened. The questions and conversations that followed were fascinating. Check out this video that Maddie from my period three class sent me that evening.
Ne rregull, ne rregull. Eshte me shume se sa nje shperthim, kimia ndodhet gjithandej. A ju ka ndodhur ndonjehere te gjendeni ne restorant duke e perseritur kete veprim pafundesisht? Disa po pohojne me koke. Kohet e fundit i tregova kete studenteve te mi, dhe i kerkova te me shpjegonin se pse ndodhte kjo. Pyetjet dhe bisedat qe vijuan ishin magjepsese. Shikoni videon qe Maddie nga klasa e ores se trete me dergoi ate mbremje.
(Clang) (Laughs)
(tingellime) (te qeshura)
Now obviously, as Maddie's chemistry teacher, I love that she went home and continued to geek out about this kind of ridiculous demonstration that we did in class. But what fascinated me more is that Maddie's curiosity took her to a new level. If you look inside that beaker, you might see a candle. Maddie's using temperature to extend this phenomenon to a new scenario.
Kuptohet, si mesuesi i kimise se Maddie-t, mua me pelqeu shume fakti qe ajo vazhdoi te germonte ne lidhje me eksperimentin qesharak qe be beme ne klase. Por ajo qe me magjepsi me shume eshte fakti se kurioziteti e nxiti Maddie-n te arrinte nje nivel me te larte. Nese shihni me kujdes brenda gotes do te shihni nje qiri Maddie po perdor nxehtesine per t'i dhene nje skenar te ri ketij fenomeni.
You know, questions and curiosity like Maddie's are magnets that draw us towards our teachers, and they transcend all technology or buzzwords in education. But if we place these technologies before student inquiry, we can be robbing ourselves of our greatest tool as teachers: our students' questions. For example, flipping a boring lecture from the classroom to the screen of a mobile device might save instructional time, but if it is the focus of our students' experience, it's the same dehumanizing chatter just wrapped up in fancy clothing. But if instead we have the guts to confuse our students, perplex them, and evoke real questions, through those questions, we as teachers have information that we can use to tailor robust and informed methods of blended instruction.
E dini, pyetjet dhe kurioziteti si ato te Maddie-t jane magnetet qe na lidhin pas mesuesve tane, dhe ato e transformojne gjithe teknologjine apo thashethemet ne mjete edukative. Por nese ua ofrojme nxenesve keto teknologji perpara se ata te behen kurioze, ne do t'i hiqnim vetes njerin prej mjeteve me te mira te mesuesve: pyetjet e nxenesve. Per shembull, duke e kaluar leksionin e merzitshem te klases ne ekranin e nje pajisje mobile ne mund te kursejme kohe mesimore, por nese ky eshte fokusi i pervojes se nxenesve tane, atehere ajo do te jete po e njejta bisede jo humane e veshur me rroba te bukura. Por nese gjejme guximin t'i konfuzojme nxenesit, t'i veme ne veshtiresi, t'i nxisim te bejne pyetje te verteta, permes ketyre pyetjeve, ne si mesues do te marrim informacione qe mund t'i perdorum per te modeluar metoda solide dhe te azhornuara te mesimdhenies se perzier.
So, 21st-century lingo jargon mumbo jumbo aside, the truth is, I've been teaching for 13 years now, and it took a life-threatening situation to snap me out of 10 years of pseudo-teaching and help me realize that student questions are the seeds of real learning, not some scripted curriculum that gave them tidbits of random information.
Pra, duke e lene menjane zhargonin mambo xhambo te shekullit te 21-te, e verteta eshte se une jap mesim prej 13 vjetesh, dhe mu desh te kaloja nje situate per jete a vdekje qe te dilja nga 10 vite pseudo-mesimdhenieje, situate qe me ndihmoi te kuptoja se pyetjet e nxenesve jane fara e nxenies se vertete, e jo nje program i shkruar qe u jep grimca te ndara informacionesh.
In May of 2010, at 35 years old, with a two-year-old at home and my second child on the way, I was diagnosed with a large aneurysm at the base of my thoracic aorta. This led to open-heart surgery. This is the actual real email from my doctor right there. Now, when I got this, I was -- press Caps Lock -- absolutely freaked out, okay? But I found surprising moments of comfort in the confidence that my surgeon embodied. Where did this guy get this confidence, the audacity of it?
Ne maj te vitit 2010, kur isha 35 vjec, me nje djale dy vjecar ne shtepi dhe nje tjeter ne rruge e siper, me diagnostikuan nje aneurizem te madh ne fund te aortes se kraharorit. Kjo coi ne nje operacion zemre. Ketu shihni emailin qe me dergoi doktori. Kur e mora kete email, une isha... me germa te medha... i frikesuar deri ne palce, ne rregull? Por cuditerisht gjeta momente qetesie te madhe fale sigurise qe kirurgu im tregonte. Ku e gjeti ky tip gjithe kete siguri dhe guxim?
So when I asked him, he told me three things. He said first, his curiosity drove him to ask hard questions about the procedure, about what worked and what didn't work. Second, he embraced, and didn't fear, the messy process of trial and error, the inevitable process of trial and error. And third, through intense reflection, he gathered the information that he needed to design and revise the procedure, and then, with a steady hand, he saved my life.
Kur ia bera kete pyetje, ai me tha tre gjera. Tha se se pari, kurioziteti e kishte nxitur te bente pyetje te veshtira ne lidhje me proceduren, mbi ate qe mund te funksiononte ose jo. E dyta, se ai e pranonte, dhe nuk ia kishte friken, procesit te rremujshem te provave dhe gabimeve, procesin e pashmangshem te provave dhe gabimeve. Dhe e treta, duke reflektuar intensivisht, ai mblodhi gjithe informacionin qe i duhej per te vizatuar dhe azhornuar proceduren, dhe me pas, pa iu dridhur dore, ai me shpetoi jeten.
Now I absorbed a lot from these words of wisdom, and before I went back into the classroom that fall, I wrote down three rules of my own that I bring to my lesson planning still today. Rule number one: Curiosity comes first. Questions can be windows to great instruction, but not the other way around. Rule number two: Embrace the mess. We're all teachers. We know learning is ugly. And just because the scientific method is allocated to page five of section 1.2 of chapter one of the one that we all skip, okay, trial and error can still be an informal part of what we do every single day at Sacred Heart Cathedral in room 206. And rule number three: Practice reflection. What we do is important. It deserves our care, but it also deserves our revision. Can we be the surgeons of our classrooms? As if what we are doing one day will save lives. Our students our worth it. And each case is different.
Une perfitova shume prej ketyre fjaleve te mencura, dhe, ate vjeshte, para se te rikthehesha ne klase, shkruajta tre rregulla te miat qe i sjell ne oren mesimore edhe sot e kesaj dite. Rregulli numer nje: I pari vjen kurioziteti. Pyetjet mund te hapin dritare mbi mesime te medha, por e kunderta nuk eshte e vertete. Rregulli number dy: Prano rremujen. Ne jemi te gjithe mesues. E dime te gjithe se te mesosh eshte e veshtire. Dhe, edhe pse metoda shkencore ndodhet ne faqen 5 te seksionit 1.2 ne kapitullin e pare ate qe e kapercejme cdo here, gjithsesi prova dhe gabimi mund te perbejne gjithnje anen informale te asaj qe ne bejme cdo dite ne Sacred Heart Cathedral ne sallen 206. Dhe rregulli number tre: Reflektoni. Ajo qe bejme eshte e rendesishme. Meriton kujdesin tone, por meriton edhe te rishikohet. A mund te shnderrohemi ne kirurge te klasave tona? Sikur ajo qe po bejme nje dite te mund te shpetonte jete. Nxenesit tane e meritojne kete. Dhe cdo rast eshte i vecante.
(Explosion)
(shperthim)
All right. Sorry. The chemistry teacher in me just needed to get that out of my system before we move on.
Mire. Me falni. Mesuesi i kimise qe ndodhet brenda meje kishte nevoje t'a nxirrte ate nga sistemi perpara se te vazhdojme me tej.
So these are my daughters. On the right we have little Emmalou -- Southern family. And, on the left, Riley. Now Riley's going to be a big girl in a couple weeks here. She's going to be four years old, and anyone who knows a four-year-old knows that they love to ask, "Why?" Yeah. Why. I could teach this kid anything because she is curious about everything. We all were at that age. But the challenge is really for Riley's future teachers, the ones she has yet to meet. How will they grow this curiosity?
Keto jane dy vajzat e mia. Ajo qe shihni ne te djathte eshte Emmalou... jemi familje jugoresh. Dhe ne te majte eshte Riley. Riley pas pak javesh do te behet vajze e rritur. Do te mbushe kater vjec, dhe te gjithe ata qe njohin ndonje kater-vjecar e dine se atyre u pelqen shume te pyesin "Pse?" Po pra. Pse. Une mund t'i mesoj asaj gjithcka sepse ajo eshte kurioze per gjithcka. Ne te gjithe kemi qene kurioze ne ate moshe. Por sfida e vertete u perket mesuesve te ardhshem te Rajlit, qe ajo ende nuk i ka njohur. Si do t'a ruajne ata kete kuriozitet?
You see, I would argue that Riley is a metaphor for all kids, and I think dropping out of school comes in many different forms -- to the senior who's checked out before the year's even begun or that empty desk in the back of an urban middle school's classroom. But if we as educators leave behind this simple role as disseminators of content and embrace a new paradigm as cultivators of curiosity and inquiry, we just might bring a little bit more meaning to their school day, and spark their imagination.
Une do te thosha qe Rajli sherben si metafore per te gjithe femijet, dhe une mendoj se braktisja e shkolles vjen ne forma te ndryshme... nga nxenesit e viteve te fundit qe ikin para se viti te filloje deri tek ajo karrigia bosh ne fund te klases se nje shkolle te mesme ne qytet. Por nese ne si edukatore leme menjane rolin e thjeshte si shperndares njohurish dhe pranojme paradigmen e re si mbjelles se kuriozitetit dhe pyetjeve, ndoshta do t'i japim me shume kuptim shkolles se te sotshmes, dhe te ndezim imagjinaten e tyre.
Thank you very much.
Shume faleminderit.
(Applause)
(Duartrokitje)