Math Task Cards

I am a secondary teacher and I love task cards.  They can be used in so many different ways to help students.

# 1:  Task cards can be used in math centers.  You can place 5 - 10 task cards or more.  Students get to choose which task cards they want to work on or solve.  Our task cards are set up with differentiation in mind, but the teacher does not select the card for the student.  One problem is set up in four different ways to help students.  The first has pictures and lower level vocabulary.  The numbers are not spelled out but written in numeric form.  The second card is the same as the first, but has no pictures.  The third one has simple sentences, and the numbers are spelled out for the students.  The fourth and last card has a compound sentence and higher level vocabulary.  The students will select the cards that will show his mastery and success.

# 2:  Teachers can give each student a set number of cards, and the students can sit at their desk and solve the problems.  The teacher selects the cards for each student.  The students can be given additional cards when the student has completed the first set.  The teacher can even provide an answer key for each student so that they can grade and correct their own work.

# 3:  The teacher can place cards at each desk.  Each student will work on the first set, and when the teacher says "scoot", the students can move to the next desk with a different set of cards.  The students can scoot as many times as the teacher wants them to do so.  Scoot is wonderful because students do not have to sit long periods of time in one place.

Feel free to visit our store, www.teacherspayteachers.com/Store/Creative-Expressions to get the hundreds of task cards that are available.  We have the cards in Spanish also.

Hasta luego!!!  

Paula

The Border Patrol/La Migra

Little did I know that the issue of immigration was going to be as strong when I was six years old as when I was sixty years old. The story and issue have become a nightmare that haunts me still.

"Orale muchachos!"  is what I heard the foreman say as we saw the border patrol van stop by the side of the road where we were picking cotton.  I heard the scurrying of feet of the young men, but I couldn't see where they were going.  I really didn't  understand what was going on.  I saw two men getting out of the truck.  They were wearing beige hats, dark glasses, black boots and khaki green uniforms.

"Mom, who are those men?"  I asked, puzzled by the activity.    

"Ignore them and pick cotton.  Tell them you are from the United States, if they ask," my mother whispered back to me.

I was confused and scared because I had no clue what was going on and everyone's behavior had changed to one of quiet fear.  I was used to the conversations going back and forth between the groups as all of us picked cotton.

I looked toward the cotton trailer and could see one of the young men underneath the cotton.

"Mom, why is that man underneath the cotton?  Won't he find it difficult to breathe?  Why is he doing that?"

"I told you to be quiet and pick cotton.  Do not say anything to anyone."

I lowered my head and continued to pick cotton even though I kept wondering what those men were going to do to us.  I wondered why everyone was behaving so differently.

I could hear the men in the green uniforms asking different people if they were U.S. citizens and wondered why they were asking that question.  Everyone was responding yes.  In some cases, one of the men in the green uniforms would ask for a birth certificate and inspect it while the other man looked around at all of the cotton pickers.

It was difficult to pick cotton as I worried about what the men in green were going to ask me and what would happen to the young men that had disappeared from the cotton fields.

I saw a black boot right beside me, and I had to look way up before I could see the man's face.  The man bent and patted my head, "And, how are you doing?  Aren't you a little young to be out here picking cotton? he asked.

I continued to look at him and thought "How can I answer two questions at once?"  I knew how to speak English, but fear made it impossible for any words to come out of my mouth.

"You sure are a cute little girl," said the man with the boot.  The other man in uniform continued to look all around the cotton field as if he was looking for something.

The man beside me continued speaking, "Are you a U.S. citizen?"

My mom answered for both of us.  "Si, somos de los estados unidos."

"Thank you, man," said the uniformed man and continued walking through the rows of cotton speakin to the different cotton pickers.

After they had spoken to everyone of us they went back to the foreman who was picking cotton.  I could see that he stopped picking as the uniformed men were talking to him.  He removed his cotton sack from his shoulder and headed toward the cotton trailer.  I watched, trying to figure out what was going on with the uniformed men.

I saw the young man who had been trying to hide come out from underneath the cotton and jump off the trailer.  The uniformed men asked him some questions, but the young man just cast his eyes toward the ground and placed his hands behind his back.  One of the uniformed men placed handcuffs around the young man's wrists and they both escorted him to their van.  As they drove away, everyone started speaking at once.

"It's okay, he will return within a couple of weeks," hollered the foreman.

"He could have died underneath all that cotton and the heat is unbearable," said a woman beside us as she made the sign of the cross over her face with her fingers.

Everyone began to laugh and rejoice as three of the other young men who had hidden re-appeared.  They had not been taken away.

"Who were those men in uniform?" I asked my mom with my hands on my waist.

"That was la migra, mija," answered my mom as she picked cotton.

"I don't know what that word means, but why did they take that man with them?" I pestered my mom with a frown on my face.

"They took him because he was not born in the United States," my mom told me.

"How did they know he was not born in the United States?" I persisted with my question.

"Well, he could not speak English and he did not have a birth certificate to prove that he was born in the United States," my mom answered patiently.

"But Mom, you don't speak English and neither do the majority of the people in these cotton fields!" I said in exasperation.

"I don't speak English, but I carry our birth certificates with us to prove that we are U.S. citizens," she explained.

The whole experience had frightened me terribly.  Even though I was six years old, this was the first time I realized that people were not free to travel wherever they wanted.  They had to prove they had been born in the United States; and the English language proved that you were a U.S. citizen.  

This just did not seem fair to me and I let my mother know that I did not like the men in the green uniforms.  My mother informed me that I had better get used to the border patrol visiting the cotton fields or any other field we were working.

At about 6:00 in the evening, the foreman announced that it was time for us to go and everyone began to climb on to the back of the truck to head home.

I could see two young men picking cotton.  They had hidden from the migra and would be able to stay in the United States to pick cotton.  

"Why aren't they going home?" I asked my mom.

"They don't have a home here.  They live far away in Mexico, just like your dad did before he died," my mother answered sadly.

"But mom, what are they going to eat and where are they going to sleep?"  I asked in desperation.

"Don't worry, mija.  They will have extra hours to pick more cotton to make more money to help their families in Mexico.  I am sure that they have some food with them."  My mom was trying to reassure me that everything would be fine, but at the same time, I heard her say a brief prayer for the young men.

Because I was six, I did not fully comprehend what had happened, but the little I did understand did not seem just or fair to me.  As human beings, shouldn't people be free to walk on whatever part of the earth they wanted?  Who had made these laws and why? It was a difficult lesson for a six-year-old to learn.

As a child in the cotton fields, I was petrified that la migra would take me to Mexico.  As an adult, far away from the cotton fields, I carry my birth certificate in my purse at all times. 

Discussion and Writing Prompts:

1.  Why was immigration an issue in the 60's and why is it an issue today, 2016?

2.  Are you familiar with a situation like the one in this story?

3.  Why are immigrants getting hired in the U.S. if they do not have the proper documents to work in the United States?

4.  Why can't people travel wherever they want?

5.  Why is there a wall between the United States and Mexico?  Is this the answer to the issue of immigration?  Compare and contrast the Berlin wall that President Reagan was responsible for removing and the wall between Mexico and the U.S.  How are they different and how are they alike?

My Name is Maria!

Have you ever wondered why so many Hispanic women are named Maria?  It's tradition in our family....seriously!

I have three sisters, and all of us are named Maria.

  

It all started with all of us having different names..... Santos, Enedelia, Paula, and Diana.  Our mother did tell us that our first name was Maria.  She had given all of us the first name of Maria.  No big deal we thought.  All of us go by our middle name so it doesn't matter that all of us are named Maria.

We didn't discover how wrong that belief was until we became professionals.  We had to fill out forms for all kinds of governmental agencies like the Social Security Office, the Internal Revenue Service, and the Human Resources Office.  We wanted to get paid so we filled out the forms.  

It wasn't too long before all of us were having to sign with our first name, Maria.  Our checks had to have our first name on them, Maria.  When different agencies call us at our home.  Guess who they asked for?  You got it, Maria!!!

I asked my sister why all of us were named Maria.  They didn't know.  I decided to ask the person who named us, our mother.

"Mom, why on Earth did you name all of us Maria?  

"No, I didn't.  I named you, Santos, Enedelia, Paula, and  Diana."

"But, Mom, all of us have Maria as our first name.  When people ask us what our first name is we have to say and write Maria."

"Oh, when I went to baptize you, the priest asked that I give you a name out of the bible.  I selected Maria."

"Mom, there are several names in the bible aside from Maria."

"I know, but every time I spoke to the priest I could only think of Maria.  So I named all of you Maria.  I didn't think that all of you would have to go by your first name."

There you have it.  That is why so many of us are named Maria.  I guess all parents thought like my mother did.

  

Discussion and Writing Prompts:

1.  What is your full name?  Do you like your name?  Why or why not?

2.  What is the true meaning of your name?  Do a bit of research and find out the meaning of your name. 

 

3.  Does your name fit you or your personality?  Why or why not?

4.  Select the name that you would like to have.  Why did you select that name?  What do you like about it?

Uno, Dos, Tres

One of the concepts to learn next in Spanish is numbers.  

The easiest way to start is to have students repeat the numbers after you.....uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, nueve, diez.

Something fun to do is have one student say uno, another student says dos, the next one says tres and so on.  The students have to be alert and ready to say whatever number is next.

 Have students stand in a line, but have them change the order so that they can practice saying all numbers that they need to practice that day or class meeting.

Another way to practice is for the teacher to say a number in English and the students can say the equivalent number in Spanish.  The teacher can also use a soft ball to throw at a student.  She/he can say the number in English and the student can say the same number in Spanish.

It's also a good idea to have a number line with large numbers.  Use a yard stick and point to different numbers, and the students can call out the correct number in Spanish.  

Students can also recite the numbers in order individually in front of the class or whisper it to their teacher so that teacher can assess mastery.

This lesson has several of the necessary handouts to help students learn the numbers in Spanish.

Nifty Numbers

Tips for Teaching the Spanish Alphabet

Students love the Spanish alphabet because it helps them learn the language more quickly.  How do you hook students into learning the Spanish alphabet?  Use the following tips to begin and end your class on a positive note every single day.  Let students work on the Spanish Alphabet Dictionary during the middle of class.

Tip # 1:  Make sure that you have the alphabet wall cards on your wall.  Have attractive wall cards with the uppercase and lowercase letter.  Use a yardstick to point to each letter.  If you have a fancy pointing stick the students will like this activity even better.  Point to the letter and say the letter by yourself.  Ask the students to repeat the letter after you.  Some students will feel uncomfortable with chorus reading at the beginning, but you, the teacher, need to keep saying the letters aloud.  Before you know it, all students will be repeating the sounds of the alphabet every day.  Make this a routine.  Start your class in this manner every single day immediately after roll call.  Begin the same routine about five minutes before the bell rings and repeat the same routine. Alphabet Word Wall 

Tip # 2:  Have students listen to this drill march, and you sing along to show them that everyone of them can learn to sing the same drill march.  The singing of the drill march will increase the tempo every single time.  I promise you that the students will be fascinated.  Provide students with the link of the drill march so that they can practice at home.  The bravest students will join the singing of the alphabet on the first day.  It will not be too long before you have all students singing along with the drill march.

Tip # 3:  On the second or third day of class, provide students with the materials to create their own Alphabet Dictionary.  They will need to find a word that begins with each letter in the Spanish alphabet.  Students will then write the word on the handout provided and include a picture that they find in a magazine or one that they decide to draw on the handout.  Tell students that they are to decorate their own letters, words, and pictures.  Provide students with the due date of the project.

This is a good way to conduct the first seven days of your Spanish I class. Students will say the alphabet, sing the alphabet at the beginning and ending of class.  They can work on their Alphabet Dictionary during the middle of class. 

Students will be able to sound out the pronunciation of Spanish words by learning the sounds of the alphabet.  Letters of the Spanish alphabet will always have the same sounds as they have when you say the letters of the alphabet.  These are strong tips to use during the first week of class for your Spanish I students.      

Creative Expressions: Mini Story and Activities

Creative Expressions: Mini Story and Activities: As I type this short story, I still wonder why I was ashamed to let others know that I was a field laborer.  I felt like I was different, a...

Mini Story and Activities

As I type this short story, I still wonder why I was ashamed to let others know that I was a field laborer.  I felt like I was different, and that people would laugh at me.  Or worse yet, maybe, they would feel sorry for me.  I always felt so ashamed, and I wish I hadn't.  This is who I was, and I didn't want people to know who I really was.  I was so uncomfortable in my own skin.

  

Extracurricular Activities

My older sister and I were both in the high school band.  I was a freshman and she was a junior at the school.  Summer band practice would start three weeks before the first day of school.  When we received our letters indicating the schedule for band practice, my sister told me that we would have to rush from the cotton fields, take a bath and be ready to drive into town so that we could make band practice on time.  My mom had already made arrangements for one of our aunts to drive us to practice.

While I was bathing for the first band practicie, I remember that every bone in my body ached.  My face was red with sunburn and it hurt when I talked or smiled.

My hands were sore with blisters and cuts from the cotton plants.  As we were driving into town, I told my sister I hurt all over.  She told me to ignore the pain and I would be ok.

I held out my hands and asked, "How can I play my clarinet with the blisters on my hands!"

My sister replied that once I got started the pain would disappear.  This was the first time I'd had to go through this ordeal and I wondered how my sister had survived the three years that she had been in the high school band.

Sure enough, I had problems putting my B flat clarinet together and I cringed as I placed the instrument in my mouth.  I pretended that my sunburned face did not hurt and I ignored the pain I experienced with every note that I played.  When other band members asked if I had spent a lot of time at the beach, I just nodded and smiled.

We practiced playing our music inside the band hall and another reality hit me as the band director announced that we would be practicing our marching in the football field for the next two hours.  I discovered a new pain as I lifted each foot to march as our band director had taught us.

I remember looking at my sister with the pain in my eyes.  She never complained and continued with the assigned tasks from our band director.

During our drive home, I realized that this would be the ritual for the next two or three weeks.  My admiration and appreciation for my sister increased as she modeled the level of endurance necessary to pick cotton and participate in our high school marching band.

At the crack of dawn the next morning, my sister and I followed the early morning ritual of cotton field laborers.

Discussion and Writing Prompts:

1.  Why do you think the writer was embarrassed about the fact that she was a field laborer?  Explain your answer and opinion in a well elaborated essay.

2.  Why do you think the writer's older sister had not explained how difficult it was going to be to participate in the high school band and work in the fields?  Explain your answer and opinion in a well developed essay.

3.  Illustrate a picture depicting the pain from working in the fields.

4.  Using a Venn Diagram, compare and contrast the similarities and differences of working in the fields and marching in the high school band.  Write about the comparisons and contrasts in a well developed essay.

5.  Create a collage with pictures and adjectives symbolizing the difficulties of working in the fields and turning right around and participating in band practice.