Three men walk into

… a hotel after an arduous trip.  It’s late at night and this is the only hotel in a small town.  There’s only one room.  The men ask for the room and the clerk says it will be 30 dollars.   Each man pitches in $10.

Later, the clerk realizes that they are running Tuesday night special and the room should really only cost $25.  He gives the bellhop 5  one dollar bills and tells him to give the men back their due.

The bellhop decides to take $2 for himself and give each man $1 back, so that it’ll work out nice and evenly.

So, now, each of the three men has paid $9 (the original $10 – $1).  That equals $27 (9 x3).  And the bellhop has $2.

$27 + $2 = $29.  What happened to the other dollar?  Seriously.  Where did it go?

THIS is the kind of question what Adrian posed in the middle of Common Planning Time Thursday, and it still is spinning around in my head.  It would be an excellent question for our mobile math lab at Fernway (though we would have to explain what a bellhop is – and why the heck there is a bellhop working in a $30 a night motel).

And this problem, that Jocelyn asked us, would be another great question for math talks: How many ways could we make rectangles that have an area of 24 sq. feet?  (I thought of a million answers for that.  Actually, an infinite number of responses.)

I have so many ideas roaming and rearranging in my head after this week’s professional learning.  They range from the ways to create culturally proficient class communities to the ways to incorporate brain frame graphic organizers to make the writing process explicit.

School is awesome now.

I think back to my education – rows and basal texts.  SRA (which only made me read fast not well).  Language workbooks.  Science workbooks.  Social studies textbooks with ten low level comprehensions at the end of each chapter.  The teaching/learning was so mundane and simple.  And, yes, I know – we did turn out alright.

But now?

School is awesome.

Teachers are geniuses.

And we work our asses off to make it better and better and better.

So, Governor Kasich, if you become King of America and you are able to ban all teachers’ lounges (which, yes, I do understand is  metaphor), I just want you to know that we would just find another room to meet  in.

We would gather and think and plan and plot – like we do every day. Not to talk about politics and all of our “woe is me” concerns,  but to think and plot and plan about how to make school better.  How to make every day a great day.  How to teach with greater effectiveness.  How to make sure each child is valued and engaged. Because  that’s what we do, Governor Kasich.  That’s what we do.

Governor Kasich’s comments about teachers’ lounges