2gY, INNOVATION ABSTRACTS ¥2i:

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AGA Published by the National Institute for Staff and Organizational Development

oan With support from the W. K. Kellogg Foundation and Sid W. Richardson Foundation

 

 

 

 

STUDENTS AS SCRAMBLED EGGS AND OTHER RECIPES FOR TEACHING

I was standing in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for our overnight guests. Gary slipped up behind me,
observed for a moment, and said, "You're bringing those eggs along very nicely... ."

"Just like students," I replied, almost without thinking.
"What do you mean?" Gary asked.

"Well, you have to apply just the right amount of heat and stir them intermittently and gently—
otherwise, you get an omelet. And you don’t let them get completely done in the skillet; turn them out on
the plate at the right time and let the heat within them continue the process," | said, warming to the topic.

The amusement showing on Gary’s face only spurred me to continue.

"It’s not just the teaching—uh, cooking process, either. You don’t just drop the eggs into the pan, cook
them for three hours, and eat them with salt and pepper (shells and all), as a first-grader might prescribe.
First, you crack them into a bowl, add just a bit of salt and help break down the albumen, add milk if you
wish, then beat them to an appropriate state of uniformity."

Thus was born the idea of students as scrambled eggs. It was one of those rare instances where one’s
subconscious produces a spontaneous response that lingers on to acquire considerable significance. The
more I reflected on that morning in the kitchen, the more my mind conjured up cooking metaphors for
teaching.

I treated some of my students like roast prime rib. | applied a lot of heat for a short period of time at the
beginning in order to seal in the juices. Then I reduced the temperature to about 275 degrees and completed
the process slowly, ensuring a high degree of tenderness.

There’s room for creativity in teaching as well as in cooking. Just as I introduced a delightful tartness to
apple pie by including a generous portion of cranberries to the filling, on occasion I introduced a new
ingredient in the classroom—always making sure to balance creativity with judgment. My willingness to
innovate in the kitchen encouraged me to innovate in the classroom. The students ate it up.

Often, I found that the addition of one additional ingredient became the critical element which turned an
everyday dining (learning) experience into a very specia] occasion. Just as a touch of all-spice "made" my
several creamcheese spreads for apples, I spiced my classes with the unexpected ingredient. For example, in
probability demonstrations, instead of using dice I used astragali (sheep heel bones), the original "bones"
used by ancient Egyptian gamblers. (Being on good terms with the local butcher comes in handy in a lot of
ways.)

New and unlikely combinations sometimes produce tasty dishes. Inspired by a mundane peanut butter
and celery snack, I developed a dip for fresh vegetables made from sour cream and peanut butter
(augmented with crumbled bacon, minced onions and other appropriate flavors)—it’s become a classic. My
new-found creative courage in cooking extended to the classroom, where, for example, I mixed a Carnac-
the-Magnificent act with calculus to illustrate that integration could be considered a matter of finding the
questions to which the derivative was the answer.

 

«} Community College Leadership Program, The University of Texas at Austin, EDB 348, Austin, Texas 78712