Power to the People

I set up a Linoit page on my class blog, asking for the children to come up with things they wanted to learn about in the upcoming weeks.

I must admit, I expected the ideas to be a bit naff, like "Let's build a rocket and fly to the Moon for lunch." etc.

How wrong I was.

Here are some examples of the ideas they came up with:

I was so impressed with the quality of the ideas that they had, that this Wednesday afternoon, we are going to pick the best ideas and put them into the topic for this term.

Power to the People.

Comments

100WCGU wk #20

The prompt this week is to use at least one of these for inspiration. …the powers that be / the apple of his eye / the writing on the wall… It was early in the Autumn When she took herself away. The trees in our orchard cried leaves for her; She was the apple of their eye , their Mistress. She said it was, "Inevitable". Powers that be had deemed it so and so it was Fruitless to pursue it. Her one way trip. The marks of her passing are writ large on the cold orchard wall s. They are writ larger, though, in me.

100 WCGU wk 21

This week's challenge is a picture prompt. I quite like picture prompts, they allow so many tangents. Our classrooms are windows. Children's views are shaped by the pictures we paint, the opportunities they envisage. We are responsible for the window's upkeep: treat it with consistent care and attention and it will open seamlessly to worlds that are beyond their wildest dreams; leave it untouched and those worlds will remain forever out of reach. The window is open to the world to view, some outsiders simply point out what is missing from times they spent inside. Others like to castigate and deride. Most smile knowingly, remembering with fondness the people who opened windows for them. People like us.

100 word challenge

Little puffs of brown meander their way to the hardening ground. The vibrant colours of endless summer have abandoned the world. Muted, the autumn leaves lead us inexorably towards the bleakness of winter. Our world is numbing. Fingers creep inside pockets. Coat buttons are done up. Smiles become grimaces.

I am MisterJim

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