Exit slip for OCT 3

 Today, our class was introduced to different formats of poetry writing. Even though it’s been a while since high school, it brought back memories—scratching my head to come up with the perfect line, doubting whether my word choices were right, and worrying about how others would perceive my work. Maybe that’s why I was reluctant to share my poem with the class—it felt like something too personal to say, like asking someone for a troublesome favor or declining a friend’s party invitation.

On my way home, I reflected on why I felt this way and realized it’s likely because I’ve never been an expressive person. People often describe me as reserved or the “quiet” type. Poetry, by its nature, demands a lot of bravery, asking you to put your emotions on display. For me, it risks crossing the line of my comfort zone.

One takeaway from today’s class is that I want to try being more open and enthusiastic. As we age, we tend to lose the excitement we had as kids. Today was a beautiful experience because I had the chance to hear my classmates’ poems and understand what they were thinking while sitting in the same room. Some poems were breathtaking, some humorous, and others deeply thought-provoking. I learned that there’s so much I can express, and there are no limits to what I can explore.

Entrance Slip for Oct.10 Reading Response

Children aren’t born craving grades. Yet, our education system operates on a reward system that focuses on “earning maximum points with minimal effort”. We are trained to excel in tests by exploiting shortcuts, such as the common strategy of “when in doubt, pick C,” or relying on past exams to get lucky on finals. This happens because we are taught that grades are the main measure of competence, rather than our true ability. As a result, students lack intrinsic motivation and avoid taking responsibility for their learning. This is why cheating is so widespread in schools and colleges, despite institutions' attempts to fix the issue through punitive measures like assigning zeroes for cheating or enforcing strict exam supervision. 

Tradition has it that the purpose of assessment is to measure students’ understanding of class material. However, from a more social perspective, assessments also serve as a way of communication between the instructor and the learner. By providing constructive feedback to students, teachers can help clarify confusions in the subject area. Meanwhile, students get opportunities to bring forward questions they struggle with, and perhaps to open up about concerns in their learning process. This kind of interaction is a two-way street in which teachers and students build stronger relationships. Moreover, students are more likely to achieve success in the subject as many researchers have found that barrier-free communications with teachers can uplevel students’ academic performance.

Exit slip for Sept.26

During last Thursday's class, we made beautiful ropes from different materials. At first, I was a bit nervous and unsure about making something that seemed complicated, but I was surprised by how quickly I learned. I made small ropes that I now hang on my keychain as both a decoration and a reminder of the class.

I connected with the process of making the rope because it felt meditative. It allowed my thoughts to flow, and I was fully present in the moment. Since I'm not a very verbal person, I enjoy working with my hands, especially when it involves creative expression. I’m passionate about painting objects and human faces. At one point, I almost enrolled in beauty school to become a professional makeup artist! I love playing with colors, sparkles, and highlights whenever I have free time. While I didn’t pursue makeup as a career, I’ve always loved how artistic experiences let us immerse ourselves fully. Watching the braiding tutorials, I was fascinated by how a simple handcraft technique could turn into something so intricate—just like how makeup can transform a bare face into something glamorous with the right technique, care, and love.

While I was making the rope, Susan played a beautiful video where braids were turned into melodies. It was so touching, and it made me realize that we can still find beauty and art, even in difficult times. The video was shot during the pandemic, when many of us felt isolated as if we were on our own little islands. But music and art connect us. Even when we feel alone, they remind us of the joy that’s still there if we take the time to appreciate it. I didn’t want the class to end, as the rest of my day was packed with busy activities. Deep down, I wish for more opportunities like this to slow down, connect with myself, and learn to be more patient with life.

Entrance slip for Oct.3

Kimerer’s article captivated me with her profound journey of learning her native language and its connection to the "grammar of animacy." I feel deeply empathetic toward the loss of native languages—languages that are not only rich in cultural significance but also embody the erasure of history.

This makes me wonder how much of the "native math language" has been lost along with the history and contributions of those who created it. For example, the Aboriginal people who have fought to preserve their languages and their historical roots. When I was in elementary school in China, we learned about the Yanghui triangle, named after its inventor. But when I moved to Canada, it was universally referred to as Pascal’s triangle, with little recognition of its original name and cultural context.

It seems that Western mathematical terminology has become the “gold standard,” leading to the assimilation of mathematical history from other cultures whose languages are less widely known. In a classroom setting, I would encourage my students to describe math in their own languages, using it as a gateway to explore their mathematical heritage. This could open up new perspectives while honoring the cultural values behind those languages. Language is a powerful tool—it represents collective identity and values. Learning the same subject in different languages offers learners a unique and enriched experience.

Kimerer’s article inspires me to make consistent, conscious efforts to incorporate Indigenous knowledge in my classroom, much like how she approaches learning her native language in small but meaningful ways every day. Simple words and phrases, learned daily, can lead to immersive and powerful lessons. I would also encourage students with Indigenous backgrounds to share their experiences in learning math that ties into their cultural heritage. This would foster a sense of belonging and compassion for all.

Week 3 Exit Slip

Our class recently did an interesting activity—matching industrial colors with objects from nature. At first, it seemed like it would be easy, but it turned out to be surprisingly challenging. Finding a perfect match was difficult because natural objects constantly shift in appearance depending on the lighting, making them so much more dynamic than the steady, fixed colors on the index cards. This got me thinking: we rarely look at things in nature as they are, like a single leaf, a tree, or a rock. Instead, we see them as part of the environment they belong to—their surroundings give them meaning and context, which adds layers of complexity to how we perceive them, including their color.

The whole class agreed that the color of a leaf was the hardest to match. I think that's because a leaf doesn’t "choose" its color. Its shade is the result of so many factors working together—sunlight, air, rain—all blending in a way that creates something unique and impossible to replicate. This really fascinates me because it makes me think about how people are shaped too. Just like leaves, we aren't defined by a single "color." We're influenced by everything around us—our environment, our experiences, the people we interact with. And just like nature adds texture to a leaf, life adds depth and richness to who we are.

Entrance Slip for Sept.26 (Response to Excerpt from Kallis)

This week’s reading reminded me of something I came across on the internet a while ago—every year, hundreds of tons of apples rot on farms. These apples can’t be sold in the market because doing so would lower prices too much. This surplus fruit is left to decay to protect the future profits of farmers and fruit manufacturers or distributors, even though world hunger continues to affect millions of people and their livelihoods. Seeing pictures of vast piles of apples left to rot made my heart sink. It made me wonder: at what point did we begin valuing monetary profit over the respect and stewardship we owe to nature?

As I read Kallis’ chapter "Building for Change from the Ground Up," I found her ideas on backsourcing to be deeply resonant with this dilemma. Just as large production companies control the fate of excess apples, much of society seems disconnected from nature. How often do we step outside, plant a tree, and feel a sense of satisfaction from engaging with the earth? Once seen as valuable and fulfilling, this kind of labour is now overlooked because everything we need is readily available in the marketplace. As a result, we miss out on the joy, fulfillment, and valuable lessons that come from working with and appreciating nature firsthand.

Kallis suggests that reintegrating gardens and natural spaces into our communities could help restore this lost connection. I wholeheartedly agree. By making an effort to nurture our surroundings, we can revive the energy and vitality of nature in our modern lives. With time and dedication, educators can also play a critical role in shaping the minds of future generations, teaching them to appreciate and care for the natural world. Through such efforts, we may begin to shift our focus from profit to a more harmonious relationship with the environment.

Week 3 entrance slip

After reading Susan’s article about the UBC Orchard Garden and the Cultivating Learning Network, I was amazed by how a passion project blossomed into such an incredible space for learning, cultivation, and inspiration for students.

As someone who regularly practices yoga and Pilates outdoors, I wholeheartedly agree with the idea of co-teaching with the living ecosystem. Nature and our community spaces are generous teachers. I’ve learned so much from nature—the mountains taught me resilience, the butterflies illustrated the cycle of life, and the rain showed me the importance of letting go. These elements continually inspire me on my spiritual journey, encouraging me to persevere even in the face of challenges. As a future math teacher, I can envision teaching geometry and number operations using objects from the garden. Visualization through nature offers a fascinating and tangible way to learn.

Another important point from the article is integration. Partnering with faculties such as Land, Food, and Systems gives students the opportunity to learn about food production. I believe every student should be educated on the importance of food and its connection to everyday resources. Food is something we often take for granted, and understanding its origins helps foster a deeper appreciation for it.

There are challenges to incorporating garden-based learning in school settings, particularly in high schools. These include space availability, maintaining classroom discipline, and addressing health concerns, such as allergies. However, these obstacles can be managed with mindful planning regarding outdoor time and its impact on student learning. Clear communication with school administrators can also help facilitate these efforts.