Normally when I sit down to write a blog I have some sort of inspiration. There is usually something I’ve been thinking about, or some sort of theme that I want to focus on. But as I sat down to write this blog entry, I just couldn’t decide on what to write. So, more or less, this blog entry will amount to a stream of consciousness.
Where do I begin? I’ve been thinking a lot about teaching. Sometimes I don’t think I’ll last another minute, and sometimes I hope that I’ll get to teach forever. I think we’ve all come to the consensus as teachers that some days are euphoric, some days are good, some days are bad, and some days are just plain awful.
I don’t know if anything more needs to be said about that. Actually, I do believe that the proportion of those days are closely related to decisions that can be made by the teacher. The real question is this: How long does it take before you have a lot more good days than bad? Based on the attrition rate of urban teachers, I’d have to say that it takes a little while. And a lot of patience. But you know what they say–good things come to those who wait (and work to improve).
I think all of this thought about teaching as a career came from the disillusionment I was feeling yesterday. It was just one of those days when the balance of positive and negative was unusually weighted toward the negative. My CT left the room, and many of my students took it upon themselves to disrupt class. I had to make a number of negative phone calls home. I had class after meeting after class with little downtime. The panel of Warner alumni in Topics was disheartening. There were other things too, but I won’t bore you with them all.
But, in everything, I always try to remind myself of the good. I think that’s part of what Haberman calls “emotional stamina.” And when it came right down to it, things weren’t really all the bad. My meeting on Wednesday was refreshing and recharged my belief in reform-based teaching. The weather was nice. And though I was busy, I was still feeling healthy and energetic.
I’ll end with a little story that got me thinking. On the way to my physics class at MCC, I was driving on South Avenue when a car came up alongside of me at an intersection. We both wanted to go straight. I was on the left, and he was on the right. There really weren’t two lanes–there was just enough room on the right for traffic to go by those waiting to make a left turn. Before the light turned green, I decided I would just let him go, rather than teach him a lesson by speeding up past him so I would be in front when the lanes merged. Then at the next intersection, cars were backed up in the left lane at a traffic light in front of a plaza, and someone waiting in line allowed someone coming from the other direction to make a left turn into the plaza. The car that passed me nearly collided with the car making the left turn as he approached the traffic light in the right lane. Had I sped up past the other car, I probably would have been in just the right place to have actually had the accident. And if I sped up and the other car did as well, he might have had the accident. My patience might have saved one of us an accident.
I hope my patience in teaching will yield a similar, favorable result.
NOTE: I wrote this entry on Thursday, and on Friday I had an awesome day of teaching. Teaching really is the ultimate emotional roller coaster!
I’m starting to think I should get a complimentary earth science certification. Between my four and eight-week placements, I have only taught in my main content area (chemistry) for about two weeks! The other ten have been earth science. But I suppose it’s okay–none of us really know what we’ll end up teaching come September. And I imagine that most of us won’t pass up a job just because it’s not on our list of preferred topics.
Anyway, let me get to the point of this entry. On Monday I started my innovative unit. As you might have guessed, the content area is earth science, and the focus of the unit is plate tectonics. I was definitely a little intimidated when I found out that I would be teaching the central theory of geology for my innovative unit, but I’ve actually had a lot of fun doing it so far. Let me explain.
First of all, when I started in Ms. Sears classroom, I wasn’t even sure how I would take to middle school (7th grade). When I entered the Warner School, I had always envisioned myself as a high school teacher. I liked the content, I liked the age, and I liked the idea in general. So when I started teaching middle school at my current placement, I was definitely a little bit unsure of what to expect. Yes, we just had STARS a few months ago, but this was different. This was a classroom setting–not two teachers with six students in an after-school club.
But I’ve surprised myself. Middle school is actually a lot of fun! Sometimes it’s frustrating and sometimes it’s downright exhausting, but middle schoolers have a lot of good energy. It’s just a matter of harnessing it. I can’t claim to be an expert on that yet, but I’m working on it. And fortunately, I can look to my CT for guidance in that arena. She’s very good at managing the middle school classroom.
With Ms. Sears guidance, I have been able to construct and implement what I believe to be a pretty good innovative unit to this point. On Monday we had the students do a pre-assessment to determine what they knew about plate tectonics, and the results really surprised me. Some of the things I expected the students to know they didn’t, and some of the things I didn’t expect them to know they did. So that just goes to show that you really have to challenge your assumptions when it comes to teaching. After the test we also went through the correct answers and started brainstorming answers to the unit essential question: How is the earth changing beneath our feet? (Thanks to Joel for that one)
On Tuesday we started talking about Pangaea and the theory of Continental Drift. To spice it up, we talked a lot about Alfred Wegener, who came up with the theory, and connected the ideas to the recent earthquakes in Haiti and Chile. The students were really interested in hearing about how the material connected to their lives.
Lastly, today we had the students cut out the continents of the earth and construct Pangaea themselves. The cutouts had pictures of the various fossils that provide evidence for Pangaea, which allowed the students to understand the reasoning behind the abstract idea that the world was once all connected. This concept was quite shocking to many students, and many even told me that they were scared that another Pangaea would form in their lifetime. I’m not sure what scared them about that idea, but I assured them that the next Pangaea probably won’t come to existence for another 250 million years.
Tomorrow the plan is to boil molasses and place graham crackers on top to demonstrate convection currents, which are the basis of Plate Tectonics. The students will fill out a P-O-E during the demo, and they should visually be able to see how convection currents in the mantle drive plates to move. I’m looking forward to another fun day at East Foundation Academy!
…and out like a lamb. Or so the saying goes for the month of March.
For me, and many of us in the cohort, this saying could not be more appropriate. I thought of it as I was creating my schedule for the next month or so. At the beginning of March, think of how much stuff we have going on. We’re getting into the thick of our placements. We’re writing lesson plans everyday. We’re composing our innovative units. We’re implementing our innovative units. We’re gathering materials. We’re assessing. We’re working on our portfolios. The list goes on and on.
On the other hand, for many of us, our placements end on April 1st. And just like that, what used to take up 10-12 hours of our time each and every day goes away. Our innovative units are mostly complete. We no longer have daily lesson plans. We’re no longer teaching. Topics (ED 400A) ends. And not only that, but the weather starts getting nicer. The snow begins to melt. The thermometer reads 50, maybe 60 for the first time in months. And think about this: the new cohort comes on board just 6 weeks after the beginning of April. We’ve almost come full circle. Pretty crazy, right?!
I write all of this because, like the vast majority of the cohort, I am a Type A Overachiever. When it comes to a difficult task, I give it everything I’ve got and I put my eyes on the prize. In other words, I’m living each day as if April 1st were tomorrow. I’m watching the clock, hoping it’ll turn faster as I trudge along through each day. For an overachiever like me, it’s just the natural thing to do. And for those of you in the inclusion program out there, I can really sympathize with you. I’m taking 7 credits at MCC this semester. I have four days a week that go from 7am-9pm. I don’t know exactly what your schedules are like, but with the added responsibilities, I’m sure you’re beginning to wish the time away too.
But here’s the thing. When you look at things this way, your whole life transforms into one difficult task after another. Think about it. Yeah, March is tough. But soon we’ll have portfolios to write. Now it’s August. Soon we’ll be first-year teachers. Now it’s June 2011. Soon we’ll be dealing with tenure and professional certification. Now it’s June 2013. And even then, the difficult tasks don’t end. Some will buy houses. Some will get married. Some will have children. Some will have aging parents. And so on.
Here’s my point. As tough as March will be, I’m not going to wish the time away. Instead, I’m going to try to find satisfaction in all of my responsibilities. I’m going to pretend that April (the month!) doesn’t exist, and instead focus on teaching and learning like never before. I may only have a mere 5 weeks left with my students, but I want to make as much of an impact as I can. And I also want to take advantage of this opportunity to be creative and experimental with my teaching. Even if I fail, I’ll still learn something from the experience, and I’ll be that much of a better teacher as a result.
This is it guys. If we give it everything (and I know many of us are already giving 150%), it will pay off in September and beyond.
I’ve decided to spare the usual suspects from my rant–teaching, teachers, teaching research, The Warner School, homework, etc. This little ditty goes out to all the pathogens out there. I know you’re just trying to survive, but come on now, did you have to descend on me just days before the beginning of my first days of student teaching? Sure, I could have survived a full workday today, but I don’t think the people around me would have been feeling too good about having me around. Let me explain.
I started coming down with this bug on Thursday night. I went out with a buddy of mine to see Avatar in 3D at the movies, and as I was sitting in the theater I noticed a pain in my left ear every time I swallowed. This led to that nasty feedback loop that I bet many of you have experienced. It starts with “Hmm. That doesn’t feel right.” Then it goes to “It was probably nothing. Maybe my throat is dry.” Ten minutes go by, and I swallow again. It hurts worse. “Oh boy. Could I be getting sick?” I swallow again. It still hurts. I repeat the cycle a hundred more times until I finally get past my denial.
When I woke up Friday, there was definitely no denying it. I was sick. Fortunately I had enough in me to finish the draft of my disciplinary paper by Friday afternoon. But by the time I was done, I had nothing left. By Friday night, I had a fever of 102.5. Yuck.
But my night didn’t end there. My friend called around 9:30pm–she was crying and needed to be taken to the emergency room. She’s from out of town, so she had no one else to take her. Naturally, I took her. I got home around 11pm. (She’s fine now.)
By Saturday my sore ear/throat was gone, but I had aches, chills, congestion, and a cough. I pretty much just laid on the couch all day, except for the fact that I had to get up at 6:45am to take my ATS-W exam. Not a pleasant experience. The exam was no problem. It was just a pain to wake up bright and early and venture out into the cold to take an exam while being sick. Thank goodness for aspirin, though.
By Sunday my fever finally broke, but I was still feeling pretty awful. I didn’t get a thing done. On a positive note, I did get to watch a lot of the Olympics (mostly curling and hockey). Go USA!
Now Monday is here, and I should really be in class right now. I think this is the first GRS class I’ve missed, and it pains me to do so. I really (honestly!) look forward to class on Monday, because it’s a great class and I enjoy hearing about everyone’s weeks. But I really don’t want anyone to get this nasty bug, because you will be totally useless for about two days, and miserable for about five. Plus I have a bad cough that seems to be this bugs way of proliferating itself.
Being a positive person, I’m trying to make the best of this. I’m not look for pity in writing this entry–I mostly wrote it to express a little frustration. I’m making the most of my time by getting some work done while I rest. I’m also projecting this experience on what it would be like if I were to miss time as an actual teacher, and I can already understand the frustration many teachers have. You want to be there with your kids! And if you’re not prepared with a lesson plan, life can get really bad. So I guess the moral of this story is always be prepared, because you never know what can happen. And take lots of Vitamin C.
Yesterday during seminar my small group had a great conversation that I really enjoyed. I think–like Lisa said–that the “lightbulbs” are really beginning to turn on. Every person in my group shared some great insights and asked questions that struck at the heart of reform-based teaching. Of course, most of the questions were ones that could not be answered in an hour (or a year for that matter), but the fact that we are asking them is a sign of our growth as educators. At least for me, it was one of the most meaningful and productive seminars yet.
One of the many topics on the table yesterday was scaffolding, which inspired me to write this entry. We’ve talked a lot about how we have to scaffold our students up to the level we want them to operate at. But insofar that we’ve talked about that, I think that we’ve focused more on scaffolding of content and not as much scaffolding of essential skills.
The reason I titled this entry “Scaffolding Scaffolding” relates to this idea. I think that before we even think about scaffolding content, we should think about scaffolding skills. You’re probably wondering what I mean by “skills.” Allow me to defer to Bloom’s Taxonomy.
This is what I mean by essential skills. I chose this diagram because it contains a lot of great verbs that can be used for objectives. It even has ideas for activities! But the one thing this diagram does not show is the hierarchy of skills from low-level to high-level. As you might have guessed, they are arranged as follows (from low- to high-level):
- Understand/Remember
- Apply
- Analyze
- Evaluate
- Create
I bring this up because, in inquiry, we expect our students to be creating their own knowledge. Therefore, according to Bloom’s Taxonomy, we expect them to be thinking at the highest level. But many of our students, and especially the younger ones, have only worked at the first two levels. They’re not used to analyzing, evaluating or creating. They’re used to remembering and maybe sometimes applying. So to throw them right into inquiry isn’t fair, and certainly isn’t effective.
This is something we should all keep in mind for our innovative units. While we want the final product to be excellent, we also want to serve our students. Pushing them is okay, just so long as we don’t push them beyond frustration.
This is also something we need to remember for our first year of teaching. It’s going to require a substantial time investment to get your students beyond just remembering and regurgitating. Depending on the age of the students, my estimate is anywhere between 2 and 4 months. This is not to say that we can’t cover content during this period. It’s just to remind us that we need to teach our students to think before we can expect them to excel at inquiry. There’s no doubt that we’ll experience pushback for this–from students, from parents, and from administrators–but if we do it right, we might just reach a student, a school, and a community.
Some of my friends make fun of me for “being an old person.” What’s so elderly about going to bed early, skipping stupid parties, and reveling in an occasional game of Bridge? Sometimes I joke that my “plan B” is to work on a cruise ship that hosts Bridge tournaments.
Apparently another one of my geriatric qualities is my tendency to listen to talk radio. Just this morning I happened to turn on the radio as I was driving into my placement, and the hosts of the show had some guests on that were talking about parenting. Of course, I’m not a parent, but I decided to keep listening anyway because it’s interesting to hear different philosophies. As the guest was talking about raising his two daughters–now adults and guests on the show–he mentioned something that struck me. He said that in order to be an effective parent, you have to be like a battery.
As he said that, I was thinking to myself “Now how in the world is this guy going to compare parenting to batteries?” But he made a great point. He started by saying “Think about an effective battery. In order for it to work, it has to have a positive and a negative terminal.” At first, I wasn’t sure what he was getting at. But it made sense after he explained it some more.
The positive end of the battery is like the supportive, uplifting, and nurturing side of the parent. This is the side of the parent that most children fondly remember after they grow up. Think of a dad bandaging a cut. A mom comforting hurt feelings. A father saying “atta boy” or “atta girl” after his kid does a good job. A mother helping her child do a project for school. I’m sure you can think of other examples.
Then there’s the “negative” end of the battery. Don’t get caught up on the word negative as you would normally think about it (i.e. malicious, demeaning, etc.). Rather, think authoritative and stern. This is the side of the parent that many children look back on…well, not so fondly. But they usually appreciate it once they have grown up. Think of a dad having a talk with his child about breaking a window. Think about the mom grounding her child for staying out past curfew. Need I say more?
Now think about parents in terms of these terminals. Take, for instance, the parent that has a strong negative terminal but a weak positive one. While it depends on the parent’s personality, this type of parent is usually seen as stringent and overbearing. He or she knows how to discipline, but does not balance it with a dose of compassion. Children are generally scared or intimidated by this parent.
Then there’s the parent that has a strong positive terminal, but a weak negative one. These parents are generally well-intentioned. They really just want their children to like them. But children usually see these parents as pushovers. The child forgets who’s in control, and is often plagued with a sense of insecurity.
Finally, there’s the parent who has a strong positive and negative terminal. This is the parent who isn’t afraid to discipline their child, even when it’s difficult. But at the same time, this parent is both loving and compassionate. Though not always the child’s best friend, this parent is respected and loved by his or her children.
Now replace the words parent and child with teacher and student. Sounds pretty accurate, right? I bring this up because I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how I’m going to teach at my new 7th grade placement. In the terms of this analogy, I think my negative end is a little bit too weak, and I know that this is something I will really have to focus on in my upcoming weeks of teaching. I really want to find that balance between too nice and too strict. Any suggestions?
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Warner Lesson Plans: Invaluable or Unvaluable?
1 Comment | Posted by John in Community Building, Reflections
Like many of you, when I first heard we would be required to write Warner lesson plans for the majority of our 8-week placement, I was very surprised and upset. It seemed like just another hoop to jump through and just another problem to tackle.
On Monday, our general displeasure was articulated in different ways. Some of us expressed a lack of time. Some expressed that the Warner plans were too complex. I even expressed that writing Warner lesson plans takes additional time beyond just planning with them. But underlying all of these complaints was (I believe) some notion that Warner lesson plans are either impractical or impossible. Having to write them every once in a while was manageable–having to write them everyday would be daunting.
I held that opinion until around 6pm Monday. But as we went through class and seminar, things somehow became more clear to me. Perhaps it was the feedback on our lesson and unit plans. Maybe it was the gallery walk activity. It might have been all of the support and clarification from April, Lisa, Kim, and our mentors. It might have even been the literature circles. Whatever the case may be, something in my head just clicked. It suddenly made sense that the different facets of the Warner lesson plan are actually related, and not a disjointed set of principles designed to torture us into submission.
So after I had this minor epiphany, I started to wonder why there is so much angst around the Warner lesson plan. What I came to was this: I think many of us spend too much time looking at the piece of paper itself instead of thinking about the intent of the Warner lesson plan. So I challenge us all to stop adapting our plans to the Warner template, and instead make the Warner template our own. In other words, take all of the facets of the Warner lesson plan–I think we all agree that they are important. Then, instead of creating a plan and tacking on parts like inclusion and community later, try to consider them all from the get-go. Not only will you come up with a better lesson plan, but writing about it later will be easier. These good practices will soon turn into habits, at which point you will be an exceptional teacher.
I’m sure some of you are still discouraged. And for good reason–you know that this semester is going to be tough. Really tough. I don’t know if it will help, but these are my strategies for making it through this 8-week placement alive:
- Don’t fight it–plan with the Warner lesson plan in mind. Train yourself to think in a manner that makes it easy to articulate each section.
- Abide by KISS (keep it simple, stupid). Don’t write a dissertation for each section. Don’t come up with plans that require you to spend 8 hours gathering and preparing materials. Sometimes the simplest approaches are the best.
- Use time wisely. We all have free time during the day at our placements. Don’t just hang out. Get some work done.
- Allot time away from the computer (even when you want to use it for leisure). You will burn out if you are in front of the computer for the next 3 months. It is not healthy to be constantly connected.
- Take 10 minutes a day to do nothing. Really, nothing. Try to clear your mind completely. Take some deep breaths. I do this before I go to sleep.
- February break. It’s not a week off.
If you need some motivation to get to this point, see my last entry. And remember that this is really the last hurrah. Your pain will be reduced if you find meaning and satisfaction in the next three months. As hard as it is, try not to do things for the grade. Don’t do it to just check it off your list. Do it to learn. And think about how good you will feel looking backing after it’s all said and done.
This is it, ladies and gentlemen! Believe it or not, we are in the final months of our science teacher training at Warner. Isn’t that crazy? April 26th is our last GRS Science class ever! That means we are really down to the last two-and-a-half months of our program (with the exception of portfolios and a summer class or two). With that in mind, I’m going to use this entry to do a little bit of “looking”: looking back and looking forward. After all, when you want see where you’re going, it often helps to remember where you’ve been.
Now, as much as I would love to talk about everything that has happened since the program began, I think it is beyond the scope of this entry. Moreover, to analyze it all would fill a thesis. Therefore, I will instead make my point using bulleted lists. The numbers I state won’t be exact for everyone, but I think at the very least you will get a sense of how far we have come.
What we have done:
- 27 credits of graduate-level coursework
- 7.5 core courses (out of 10)
- 30 blog entries @ 400 words each = 12,000 words
- 10 April/Michael critical pieces @ 750 words each = 7,500 words
- 33 assorted weekly assignments @ 400 words each = 13,200 words
- 7 midterm papers @ 1,500 words each = 10,500 words
- 7 final papers @ 3,000 words each = 21,000 words
- 10 Warner Lesson Plans @ 2,000 words each = 20,000 words
- 1 STARS Unit Plan @ 10,000 words each = 10,000 words
- 10 Presentations
- GRS Science Summer Camp
- STARS
- 14-week Field Experience
- 4-week Placement
Total: 94,200 words @ 250 words/page = 377 pages of text + countless lives impacted (conservative estimate)
What we have learned:
- Social justice
- Social constructivism
- Literacy
- Technology
- Conceptual Change
- Inquiry
- Lesson Planning
- Classroom Management
- Time Management
- Nature of Science
- Standards-based Education
- Scaffolding
- Backwards Design
- Inclusion
- Differentiation
- Adolescent Development
- Cultural Sensitivity
- Learning Styles
- Motivation
- Authentic Assessment
…and those are just the ones I came up with off of the top of my head. For you visualizers out there–let’s see you turn this into a concept map!
Let’s get to the point: what does all of this mean for our teaching? Well, this is how I think of it. We have learned about a bunch of different tools. I’ll use an analogy. We’ve basically been talking about hammers, screwdrivers, and pliers. We know all about them–we know what they look like, we know the principles behind why the work, we know how they can be used together to create something beautiful. But we still have very little experience actually using them. This is what our placements are for. Placements give us an opportunity to pick up a hammer and, well, try it out in the classroom (remember, figuratively here people)! Of course, sometimes we’re going to totally miss the nail and knock off our fingernails, but that’s how we learn, right? And I don’t know about you, but just thinking back on how much I’ve accomplished since the beginning of this program (look at list above for inspiration) is enough to keep me going when I feel like I’ve messed up. I also remind myself what I’m working for–to make a difference in the lives of a student, a family, a neighborhood, a community. And don’t forget–embrace the mediocrity (we’re past suckiness now)!
Looking forward, my goal for this 8-week placement is to focus on mastering a few tools at a time, instead of them all at once. I’m going to start with the basics–objectives, goals, standards, and assessment, and gradually work my way up. After all, I’m not yet a master craftsman. In order to get there, I have to start by making simple footstools before I can make elaborate armoires.
Best of luck to everyone at their upcoming placements! I know we’ll all do great.
After all of the planning, the late nights, the frustration, the successes and failures, the exhaustion and exhilaration–finally, the moment that brings it all together. And I have to say, it was a wonderful moment. To see the fruits of your labor come together in a final celebration is a wonderful experience, and I don’t think that this experience could have been much better.
First off, I want to say how impressed I was with the whole thing. I was impressed by the amount of work that each team put into their videos. They were all very entertaining, with great music and great visuals. I was impressed by the interactive stations everyone put together. They really had the audience engaged and having a lot of fun–both young and formerly young alike! I was impressed by the smiling faces and kind words that I heard throughout the morning. We all definitely came with our teacher faces on today, and it showed. I was impressed by the turnout, and especially so with the team that had almost everyone there! It looks like calling home really payed off. Finally, I was impressed with the girls and how well they handled themselves in front of the crowd and at their stations. Today, they seemed more like scientists than ever.
Another thing I really liked about the STARS Conference today was the chance to get to chat with a wide variety of people. I got to speak with many of the Get Real! Science mentors informally, which was really nice, and I got to meet a diverse and interesting group of parents who were definitely fascinated by what we had to offer! Such a cool experience.
It was also great that we had a chance to debrief and give our fearless leaders some feedback. I think a little bit of venting might have gone on as well, but I don’t think that anyone meant to intentionally be negative. In truth, we all understand how difficult it is to organize something of this magnitude, and as much as we would like everything to work out perfectly, it is rarely the case that it does. A big thanks to all of the people who made STARS possible! There are too many to list. I could probably fill a whole entry with just their names!
To put it simply, today was a great day. In spite of the fact that it was a Saturday, and we all had lots of papers waiting to be written, I think we all came away from the day with a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment. So here’s to the 2009 Get Real! Science Cohort–a job well done!
Believe it or not, with some K’Nex, 28 gauge magnet wire, and a couple of magnets, you can generate your very own electricity! The device itself is called a dynamo, and it creates AC (alternating current) by varying magnetic flux within a wire loop. Sounds complicated, but it really isn’t! The images below will show you how to build a dynamo, and not only that, but one that’s ready to be converted into a windmill. Let’s start!

Build yourself a nice strong base. This base can easily support a tower up to three feet tall. The tower built in this demonstration is approximately two feet tall.

Build up that base some more!

Start heading toward the sky.
At the top of your tower, build this construct. As you can see, I threaded the wire through one of the holes in that white piece. The loose end will be one of your contacts. The end attached to the spool will be the end you use to wrap the wire around the axle. Once you’re done wrapping, cut the wire, being sure to leave some excess for the other contact.
Here you can see how I wrapped the wire around the axle. It is VERY important that you do it this way, in the plane of the axle. If you wrap the wire around the axle, as if you were covering a cylinder, it will not work.
You can see I put some wooden pegs in to keep the wire from rubbing against the axle and adding some undue friction.
Slap a couple of magnets on there (2 in/.5 in/.25 in) and hot glue them in place. Be careful, if you get rare earth magnets, they can slam together and break! One more thing–see that gray piece in there next to the orange one? That’s essentially a washer to keep the axle from shifting around too much. There’s also a yellow attached to lower the center of gravity so it doesn’t spin ’round and ’round.
If you want to see how much power it makes, hook it up to a multimeter and find out! This one makes enough to power a small LED, but you have to spin it pretty quickly to do so.
Have fun!

