It's the end of summer and the bees have discovered the salt water pool. In the spring, early summer, and even mid summer, they seem to have plenty of water sources and stay far from it.
Bees and pools don't mix.
Bees, within their complicated and inspiring social world, communicate a "find." When a scout bee finds a field of clover, a water source, or even a new hive, she will buzz back to the hood and inform her homies with a demonstrative dance. Yes, dancing. It's called the waggle dance. When observing bees, an observer who is aware of a waggle dance, can easily identify and and enjoy the display. The bee's dance moves have specific meanings--directions and measureable distances.
It's important for a beekeeper/pool-owner to keep a bee from sharing "the find."
It means I can't save my own bees from drowning. At least in the beginning of their watery plunge.
I have to watch a bee or sometimes a whole pack of bees, flail and fight for life. Just when I think they've had a bad enough experience, so they won't hurry back to the hood with good news, I can scoop the bee to safety. Sometimes it's not soon enough, and other times, they are hardly phased by 20 seconds in the water.
Often they are alive but groggy and stumble around as if drunk. It is in this state that I worry about being stung. Bees have no allegiance, nor gratitude for life savers.
One day, I saw what I deemed as the miraculous bee acrobat. I stood over her, waiting for the fine line between the "lesson" and drowning. Oh how she struggled and then--she flipped herself out of the water! I had never seen this phenomena.
Since I started back to school, I have been thinking about the students and their abilities to flip themselves out of the water or do I help them out of the water? As teachers and parents, we face this over and over again. It starts with watching a three month old baby trying to flip himself over. "Almost, almost," we cheer, and it's tempting not to give the little guy a nudge; yet if we consistently nudged, he would never develop the muscle to do it himself.
And so we stand back. We let the bee, the student, or the child struggle until, the lesson is learned, or until they've figured it out.
My first student on the second day of school-- didn't finish the reading.
"I just didn't finish the ending," he claimed.
My purpose was not to dock points but to let him struggle a little until he realized only he had the power to save himself, because in the long run, it's not about the teacher. I asked him what he would give himself.
"Twelve out of fifteen points," he answered with confidence.
This worked for me; time will tell if it works for him.
Bees and pools don't mix.
Bees, within their complicated and inspiring social world, communicate a "find." When a scout bee finds a field of clover, a water source, or even a new hive, she will buzz back to the hood and inform her homies with a demonstrative dance. Yes, dancing. It's called the waggle dance. When observing bees, an observer who is aware of a waggle dance, can easily identify and and enjoy the display. The bee's dance moves have specific meanings--directions and measureable distances.
It's important for a beekeeper/pool-owner to keep a bee from sharing "the find."
It means I can't save my own bees from drowning. At least in the beginning of their watery plunge.
I have to watch a bee or sometimes a whole pack of bees, flail and fight for life. Just when I think they've had a bad enough experience, so they won't hurry back to the hood with good news, I can scoop the bee to safety. Sometimes it's not soon enough, and other times, they are hardly phased by 20 seconds in the water.
Often they are alive but groggy and stumble around as if drunk. It is in this state that I worry about being stung. Bees have no allegiance, nor gratitude for life savers.
One day, I saw what I deemed as the miraculous bee acrobat. I stood over her, waiting for the fine line between the "lesson" and drowning. Oh how she struggled and then--she flipped herself out of the water! I had never seen this phenomena.
Since I started back to school, I have been thinking about the students and their abilities to flip themselves out of the water or do I help them out of the water? As teachers and parents, we face this over and over again. It starts with watching a three month old baby trying to flip himself over. "Almost, almost," we cheer, and it's tempting not to give the little guy a nudge; yet if we consistently nudged, he would never develop the muscle to do it himself.
And so we stand back. We let the bee, the student, or the child struggle until, the lesson is learned, or until they've figured it out.
My first student on the second day of school-- didn't finish the reading.
"I just didn't finish the ending," he claimed.
My purpose was not to dock points but to let him struggle a little until he realized only he had the power to save himself, because in the long run, it's not about the teacher. I asked him what he would give himself.
"Twelve out of fifteen points," he answered with confidence.
This worked for me; time will tell if it works for him.