One of the early steps in successful project-based learning is for students to develop essential questions. Somewhere in the misty regions of their interests and passions, familiar topics, recent learning, and often the complete unknown, an essential question takes shape to guide inquiry and project work.

There are many variations on what makes a good essential question; here are some guidelines being used by students in a "Middle Earth 12" class at D.P. Todd in Prince George:

1. an essential question should spark the imagination 
2. an essential question introduces a problem that has a means of being solved 
3. an essential question has depth -- dimension and significance 
4. an essential question pushes thinking, creativity, and authentic inquiry
5. an essential question is broad enough to make connections between diverse fields, but still has a recognizable focus 

Middle Earth 12 is a senior Humanities course exploring society, history, language, and landscape by going in-between real and imagined worlds.  Here are some of the essential questions that the students in Middle Earth 12 are using for their first of two attempts at project-based learning:

• Can the use of creative writing and visual arts be used to understand and empathize with daily life in a medieval village?
• Why does the legacy of medieval mythology passed down to modern times leave us with the sense that dragons could be real?
• How did the design and construction of castles satisfy the social needs and engineering talents of past societies?
• How and why have monsters such as werewolves developed in modern literature and cinema?
• How has the character and moral purpose of Robin Hood evolved over time to fit modern society and new audiences?
• What do the Spartan, Aztec, and Ancient Chinese cultures have in common regarding the social impact of weapons, armour, and warfare?
• What has been the purpose of calligraphy and related forms of graphic expression in past societies and how has this changed?
• What part of the classic mythological record of Hercules is reflected in modern versions of the story such as Disney's "Hercules?"
• How have various past societies and cultures been shaped by military strategy and weapons technology?
• What patterns are in place in the lore and creation of Dark Souls characters such as Havel the Rock?
• What purpose do the Asgardian Weapons have within Norse Mythology?
• How and why do fictitious "cryptozoological" creatures come into the stories of past European and First Nations cultures?

One might notice a recurring theme here of medievalism and fantasy worlds (this is what drew many of the students towards the course), but there is also an undercurrent of critical inquiry -- applying concepts such as the benchmarks of historical thinking. The students are now involved in the next steps of PBL: asking more questions, planning their research, developing a system for organizing their learning, and putting some thought into the construction and presentation of their inquiry projects.

I found out a few weeks ago that the local School Board Office has proposed to cut the 'Professional Development Fund Administrator" job next year, a half-time position I currently hold!  This is part of the "Savings Plan" to pay for a negotiated CUPE wage settlement. I am left wondering if the folks who made this decision actually know what this job involves and how important it is to teacher Pro-D in our school district. Among other things, it involves coordinating  PD activities throughout the year, organizing a big conference, and working with teacher applicants and groups on funding support for workshops, PD events, and conferences. Our PD Fund is set with specific supports for our rural school teachers and a system that allows applicants to travel out-of-district. All of these functions will be at stake if the position is cut.

What were they thinking? Some possibilities come to mind:

• they don't know what the job involves or weren't thinking about this when the decision was made -- an opportunity to inform and dialogue I suppose
  
• they do know but think that the work will continue by a yet-to-be determined group of volunteers in the future, or that this work does not need to be done
  
• they do know but would like to remove this area of contractual responsibility from teachers (professional autonomy over PD and the teacher association's direction of the Fund)
  

I'd love to find out! I guess either way this turns out I'll need to find a positive way forward... a) the position remains and all my intense learning in the first year at the job will not be in vain, or b) the position is cut and I get to go back to full time teaching which will reduce my work hours and stress considerably. I very much enjoy the work and the partnerships across the district, but it has been far more than a half-time position over the last year.

I have described what this position involves at http://pgdta.ca/pro-d.

Our SD57 Fund consists of $150 per member ($109,500) plus a half-time position ($40,500) = $151K for 730 teachers.

I really like the way SD27 Cariboo-Chilcotin has set up their PD Fund: $121,500 placed in Fund (part of which pays for a PD leadership position), plus a bank of 160 TTOC (sub teacher) days (value of $49,920) = $171K for 340 teachers.

I just want to say it is such a great feeling when your kids are old enough to be "people." Some people love kids when they are 0-5 years old, but for me I am more comfortable with them after 6! Maybe it has just taken me that long to figure them out. My little guy has all the delightful qualities of a kid -- funny noises, ability to lose himself in an activity, and a love for pajamas. He also has inklings of what he is and will become -- kind, friendly, sensitive, and brave. Somewhere in between is his fascination for Minecraft, inventive story-telling, and truly spectacular bedhead.

A gnarled tolkien-like box elder (or manitoba maple) used to live on our front lawn right beside the curb. It was a delight to our children - the perfect climbing tree, filled with dozens of burls and natural places to sit or stand, half sheltered from the street below. When one of our kids was really upset or angry, and we had used up our meagre bag of parenting tricks, we would take them out to sit up in the tree until they had calmed down. As they got older, we could sometimes just send them out to the Crying Tree when they needed a break from whatever was brewing inside the house. 

Lu was just a baby when we first used the tree for Comfort. I set her down, wrapped in a blanket and screaming, on the first burl-ledge and stood there thinking about why I got so upset she got upset. The twilight and fresh air, the play of fall leaves above her, seemed to work almost instantly, and when we came inside we had a name for the tree. 

The last formal visit to the tree belonged to Kate and Finn, who climbed up to the big fork to have a deep conversation about something, now forgotten, that was very important at the time. In between these mileposts, it was a fort, hiding spot, guardpost, cat-perch, and tower in a castle. In addition to children, it was host to many woodpeckers, especially in the last few years, and was part of the squirrel highway that allowed safe passage along the street, out of reach by cats.

The tree has been dying for few years, a victim of whatever had caused the teeming burls, and it became clear that we had to do something with it before the rot set in. The City of Prince George made our decision for us, and came with chainsaws and a woodchipper to take it down last summer. We salvaged as many burls as we could, and handed them over to a local woodturner (Greg Clarke) to dry the wood and work them into something we could keep. He fashioned 20 or more objects from the tree, most of which we received recently. 

The Crying Tree bore witness to our laughter and tears, to our street barbecues, to our comings and goings, and our attempts to make a Hobbit-home out of our house. It had the power to calm, and was a source of fascination for neighbours and strangers alike. They gave it names like the Booby Tree, the Gnarly Tree, and the Schmoo Tree. On account of the low growths and step-like architecture, many of the kids nearby had their first solo tree-climbing experience here. I can remember at least three conversations when we were all talking out on the street and some kid asks a parent "can I climb this tree?" and the parent looks at it for a bit and says "yeah, of course, why wouldn't you." 

The Crying Tree was a staging area for many games and role-plays that I was never privy to, a source of secrets and schemes, but it was the Comfort it gave to my kids when they were sad that makes me most thankful. The tree will have to continue this important work now as the Crying Bowls; maybe there is still some role they will play in the emotional health of our family.