Faculty Newsletter Vol 26 June '16 by The Nightingale-Bamford School

Nightingale Faculty Newsletter Volume XXVI / June 2016

ACROSS OUR CLASSROOMS The Fine Art and Science of Teaching at Nightingale Jennifer Zaccara

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Latin Roots Jeff Kearney

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A Nightingale Tradition of Envisioning the Museum as Classroom April Tonin

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Music Department Traditions: The Class VII Composition Project Courtney Birch Sarah Taylor Ellis

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Writing at Nightingale John Loughery

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Computer Science and Design Thinking Nicole Blandford

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Lower School Traditions: Signature Moments in the Lower School Curriculum

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REFLECTIONS Finding Her Voice: The Debate Program Candi Deschamps

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The London Trip Sally Edgar

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Global Partnerships: Nightingale School Exchanges Anne Longley

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Nightingale Dance Collective: Tradition Never Graduates Jeanne Finnigan-John

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STUDENT VOICES Student Diversity Leadership Conference Amanda Cortes ‘16 Danielle Louis ‘18 THE CATHERINE M.S. GORDAN NIGHTINGALE MIND LECTURE Better to Reign in Hell: The Construction of Satan in John Milton’s Paradise Lost Bradley Whitehurst

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This issue of the faculty newsletter carries on the tradition of sharing the pedagogy, curricula, and community life at Nightingale along with the high level of individual scholarship of our faculty. We are also at a new moment for the newsletter as an entity by creating a digital version of it. To honor that exciting new development, the articles in this issue focus on some of the enduring educational traditions and curricular cornerstones of a Nightingale education. This issue might then be perceived as a foundation for a new era. Included, you will also find images of our girls and our programming, and audio of a seminal faculty lecture by Brad Whitehurst on Milton. Going forward, I will gather a small group of faculty who will think about how the faculty newsletter can best serve our community. We will consider who is in our audience and what our primary purpose will be in a digital format. We have many options to have more interactive components in the newsletter if we stay with the digital plan, and, of course, we will have a more sustainable model. I hope that you enjoy this issue, and many thanks to all who contributed. Thank you also to David Byrnes for helping me to think about a digital format and for creating this first issue in that mode. Please let me know your reactions to this issue, any ideas for subsequent issues (including the number of issues a year, and content), and if you would like to be on a small task force to make decisions about the newsletter of the future.

Best Regards,

Jennifer L. Zaccara Associate Head of School

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

The Fine Art and Science of Teaching at Nightingale Jennifer Zaccara / Associate Head of School

Great teaching can be imagined as a delicate balance: too much of the art of teaching or too much of the science effectively overload the sacred equation. There is an art to teaching, and great teachers bring creativity, passion, and inspiration to every class, but they cannot reach for “art” in teaching before learning some of the “science” as well— and one never should lose sight of the science of teaching even when one earns the recognition of being a master teacher. What are the elements of the art and science of teaching at Nightingale? How do we continually cultivate and practice the “sacred equation” of pedagogy that goes back to the Greeks—to Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle? Our faculty begin with a passion for their disciplines and for teaching girls. We are mission driven in so many senses of the word—by a personal sense of questing in our fields, in what fascinates and drives us in continued study, and by a non ut sibi sense of inspiring and knowing our girls. Each department at Nightingale strives to find the right way to cultivate a realization of what it means to be a lifelong learner. A few years ago, the senior class started their year out with the idea that at Nightingale, we see the “seeds” of what is to come. We lay the seedbed, and then we know that there will be a harvest—perhaps unseen but definite. When our girls return, we see the fruition of the habits of mind, skills, and discoveries that make up their Nightingale experience, but we also know that they are always “out there,” being in the world, as Heidegger would say, our emissaries whose passion, knowledge, and ethical core make them Nightingale girls forever. This all begins in the classroom with a teacher and a student, with an inspired lesson plan and a teacher’s willingness to go “off track” if the journey is worth more than the plan. Nancy Flanagan argues that teaching is like jazz: “Jazz performed is a hard science—a body of accepted knowledge, skills, and procedures—long before it becomes a vehicle for artistry. Miles Davis may have

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

been born to re-invent jazz, but he credited Juilliard with teaching him essential lessons in theory and tone production.” We are surely jazz practitioners at Nightingale, and there is not a better school in which to be mentored as a new teacher. The collaborative spirit in our departments enables teachers to begin with the science of teaching in their discipline while continually opening out the possibilities in the art of experimentation, exploration, and creativity. The final goal, knowing that in your end is your beginning, that the art and the science of pedagogy ultimately co-exist means that every master teacher comes in a state of wonder to his/her subject and classroom. We make it new again in a continual evolution of self and craft. When Kitty Gordan first composed the “Qualities of Good Teaching at Nightingale,” she divided up the list of values into three categories—qualities of a professional, a classroom teacher, and a member of the school community. All of our ideals are wrapped up in the fact that Nightingale teachers believe in total commitment. We know that teaching moments happen in the classroom as well as in the hallways, on the fields and courts, on the stage, in a public forum, and in social interactions. Every moment can be a teaching moment, and therefore Nightingale teachers are always seeking those opportunities, enjoying the spontaneity as well as the cultivation of learning opportunities. You will find a line in this document under being a professional that states that a faculty member will “reflect on one’s own teaching” staying “current with both discipline and pedagogical research towards enhancing one’s own teaching.” Also included is the importance of tackling the challenges and opportunities in cultivating diversity of thought and of asking the right questions so that every girl can bring her full self to the classroom-learning experience. Teachers exercise a variety of approaches in the classroom and model behaviors “conducive to student academic,

personal and moral growth.” They promote creativity and risk-taking, and they demonstrate and create “energy, excitement, and enjoyment.” So many faculty come to mind as do so many of our seminal assessments: an oral language examination, a simple machines project, a provocative essay assignment, a middle school composition project, a castle project or a Colonial Fair persona, a Constitution Works case, or a final scholarly research paper. Our students treasure learning by doing and the traditions of learning at Nightingale. Many of our seniors still have their Class III lamp projects hanging in their bedrooms at home! Great teaching is connected to key moments and to habits of experience that anchor the new. For every biotech or science seminar, there is a Latin lesson, for every museum experience for our Nightingale girls, there is a moment of emphasis on visual education in the classroom, in every opportunity to think like an historical leader or tactical politician, there is a study of core knowledge and historical cycles or patterns—we have opportunity and imagination as well as the building of a knowledgeable mind and a good citizen. Our Nightingale girls are taught to question but also to have an informed mind. Our faculty have their distinct teaching methods and styles, but they always also operate on the fringes of new possibilities. Visiting each other’s classes and working in section meetings, they continually hone their skills. There is no complacency, only opportunity, joy, and practice. Walk into Jeff Kearney’s class and you will hear about the motto of the week, the controversy over Latin or English on university diplomas, and regular practice at declensions and translations. Meander over to John Loughery’s class, and you will hear the energized shouting from the girls over whether Achilles or Hector is the better man. Peek in on Allan Bikk, and you will see his swivel chair moving around the room as he asks his “scholars” and “professors” what their opinions are. Listen to Sam Howell teach his students Creole alongside French or hear Susan Cohen-Nicole teach an explication du text on Candide side by side with an analysis of a cultural moment on French television. Watch Gordon Blyth deftly deflect girls’ attempts to have him solve their math problems and hear his encouragement, humor, and expertise, as he asks for their individual processes to solve each problem. See Elizabeth Fairbairn help students devise their Rube Goldberg simple machines. Witness Melissa Rice recording a girl’s voice when she reads to finetune the teaching and learning. See Scott Meikle teach

students how to create silvery metal fish or a lamp with a remote control. Walk into Phil Cook’s chemistry class and see daily demonstrations of concepts learned along with more formalized labs. Hear Kathleen Kernell teach guitar or discuss sundry topics of interest with the expertise of a Renaissance scholar…the list could go on and on. We have an outstanding faculty, and the art and science of pedagogy is alive and well at the Nightingale-Bamford School. When T. S. Eliot wrote the “Four Quartets,” he explored what it meant to be a pilgrim in search of home, to be a poet who was the repository, the vessel through which his ancestors and “past lives” would find new ground. Here at Nightingale we are on a pilgrimage as well; we often say “Nightingale is the school you come home to,” and we revel in the return of our graduates and former teaching colleagues. Our sense of delight comes in hearing their stories and knowing that they have come back to “touch base.” Nightingale has a distinctive “sense of place.” We reach out into our new spaces and begin to craft narratives that link them, tentacle-like to our story origins. In her essay “What is a Sense of Place?”, Jennifer Cross writes: “Sense of place is inevitably dual in nature, involving both an interpretive perspective on the environment and an emotional reaction to environment.” In our teaching, our mission and heritage are present at every moment. Whether we knew Joan McMenamin, Marietta Von Heereman, Lois Wien, Sally Edgar, Carolyn Wheater, or not, eventually, you feel their presence—in the habits of mind, and spirit of place, that make Nightingale the school that it is. We know that the standards of excellence in teaching rest on firm foundations, and that Nightingale is both a school of liberal arts traditions and innovations in pedagogy and curriculum. We see forward and back and never lose the awareness that both lines of vision are important. That is how we create a community, a sense of place, and a faculty of scholars, deeply connected to and passionate about pedagogy and student life, and a student body poised and dwelling in inquiry. At Nightingale, we have essentially modernized the original purposes of the Oxford tutorial, giving each girl specific attention through dialogue and interaction, through a life of the mind and a cultivation of the heart, through ideals and practice. We exist in a perpetual Socratic sensibility. That dialogue between mind and heart lies in every encounter between teacher and student, and it links us to the past while opening doors and paths to the future.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Latin Roots Jeff Kearney / Classics

This piece first appeared in the fall 2015 issue of The Blue Doors, the magazine of the Nightingale-Bamford School.

In June of 1975 the Times News Service reported a story that appeared in papers as far as the Bakersfield Californian and the Post-Crescent of Appleton, Wisconsin: In a ceremony that ended with the graduates and alumni singing out “In Praise of Old Nassau, My Boys,” two young women from New York, Cynthia Chase and Lisa Siegman, addressed Princeton University’s 228th commencement Tuesday as the valedictorian and salutatorian of the Class of 1975, the first time a woman has been awarded either honor in the school’s history… Adhering to Princeton tradition, Siegman read her salutatory in Latin. After comments from the graduates on the moment itself (less momentous to students than to the press and alumni) and future plans (comparative literature, law), the article turns to “two most interested spectators” at the ceremonies outside Nassau Hall that afternoon: Mrs. Joan McMenamin and Miss Marianna von Heereman. The historian Headmistress and the Latin teacher had taught both Chase and Siegman when they were students at Nightingale (Chase graduated in 1970, Siegman in 1971). When asked about the role of a single-sex school in her students’ success, Miss von Heereman—likely one of just a few in the audience to understand Siegman’s address without a dictionary—shook her head, saying only, “Girls of that caliber…under all conditions are better.” In its aim to educate “girls of that caliber,” Nightingale has always given Latin a front row seat. By the time Marguerite Colson ’06 delivered another Princeton salutatory, the Latin requirement was 90 years old. The language has been offered since the school’s founding in 1920, when it formed the core of a college track that also included classical history, a curriculum comparable to that of the boys’ schools at the time. There was also a general track that was similar to a traditional liberal arts curriculum,

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

comprised, among other subjects, of English, art history, and French. Perhaps most notably, we learn from a 1922– 1923 catalogue of Miss Nightingale’s Classes, it was all accomplished between 9:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m., October through May. The first Nighthawks began Latin in Upper School Class IV, the equivalent of our seventh grade. There they tackled a remarkable 35 chapters in Collar and Daniell’s First Year Latin, a book simple in title alone. Though the authors proposed “not to teach to-day what may be taught more properly to-morrow,” the pace of their book suggests seizing the day rather than waiting for another one. In fact, the book frontloads nearly all of the grammatical terminology—from parts of speech to word inflection to types of subordinate clauses—before the introduction of the alphabet. The purpose was to anticipate questions before they could arise in a 12-year-old mind. While the authors were at it, they decided to address such matters as “What Latin is,” “Why Latin is studied,” and the ninestep “How to study Latin.” The final piece of advice in the last of these was “consider the troublesome parts.” Students finished the book’s basic training by the end of our eighth grade. The practice sentences that year give a clue that the pace had not slowed: The poor soldiers are tired in body, but they surpass the enemy in speed. The remaining Upper School years were devoted to Roman authors, beginning in Class VI (our ninth grade) with texts used in today’s AP Latin curriculum. They cut generous swaths through the Gallic War and First Catilinarian Oration. When they were not reading Cicero, girls were imitating his prose style. It would seem unlikely that the 75 lessons in the “beginning” years had left gaps, but Baker and Inglis’s Latin Prose Composition was not going to take any chances. Its stated aim, after all, was “that better results be gained and dishonest work be discouraged.” Miss A.J.G. Perkins and Miss C.L.W. Wade taught the first Latin classes along with ancient history. According to former Associate Head of School and de facto Nightingale historian Kitty Gordan, they were “part of a group of very

well-educated and talented women, mostly graduates of Bryn Mawr, Barnard, and Vassar, who spent their teaching career at Nightingale and played a formative role in the history of the school.” This was particularly true for Miss Wade, later Mrs. Boecklin, whose tenure stretched into the early 1960s. To her colleague and successor Shirley Bennette, Mrs. Boecklin seemed to read the Aeneid “like a newsreel…as if the events in the poem were happening right now.” Her precision with Latin was matched, says Eve Krzyzanowski ’69, by a meticulously woven braid she wore across the top of her head in the Flavian (A.D. 69) manner. Likewise, the curriculum that Mrs. Boecklin began to weave—with strands of ancient history, culture, grammar, and literature—would prove as lasting as the hairstyle; it still lives today. In fact, Mrs. Boecklin’s braided portrait hangs over Latin faculty desks as a tribute to her enduring influence on our work: tradition and innovation, our fundamental warp and weft. Aside from the years immediately following the school’s founding, the 1960s may have been the single most auspicious period for Latin at Nightingale. Two remarkable teachers—and pivotal figures in the program—joined the faculty: Marianna von Heereman in 1958 and Shirley Bennette in 1968. Their long tenures (Miss von Heereman’s until 1976 and Mrs. Bennette’s until 1990) would change and shape the department’s curriculum and faculty in fundamental ways. At first glance the women could not be more different. Miss von Heereman was from an aristocratic family in Silesia, a German-speaking region of Poland. She was educated by private tutors, including in Latin, which she learned from a Jesuit priest. She emigrated to the United

States via Switzerland to escape the political climate. She was single and, while liberally educated in the arts, had little interest in music. In fact, she once presented a vinyl record to Mrs. Bennette with the request that she “find a home for the strange object.” Miss von Heereman’s students recall her as vividly. Eve Krzyzanowski ’69 remembers how “in severe dark suits down to sturdy Oxfords, she cut an imposing figure.” Elena Hahn Kiam ’81 adds that Miss von Heereman carried a picture of Plato in her wallet: “I suppose she liked gazing at his image just as others enjoy seeing photos of their families.” Mrs. Bennette, by contrast, was a New Englander who received a thoroughly American (and first-rate) education, first at Mount Holyoke College, then at Berkeley and Union Theological Seminary in New York. A Fulbright Scholar at the American School in Athens, she traveled widely with her husband, a classical pianist. Mrs. Bennette’s attention to detail, Alexandra Hahn Murphy ’78 recalls, was less an academic exercise than a moral one. For her, reading Latin was an act of historic preservation: “She wanted to prevent texts from being permanently lost in translation as it were.” Though steeped in tradition, Miss von Heereman and Mrs. Bennette saw in many ways to the “modernization” of the Classics department that exists today. Under their leadership, the department hired one of the school’s first male teachers, Mr. Hamister, in the 1970s, followed by Mr. Klopacz in the 1980s. When the language was in danger of “starting too late” (the requirement had moved up to begin at Class VIII), Mrs. Bennette championed the cause to move it back earlier and earlier in the curriculum, first to Class VII, and then Class VI. Latin as the first language was

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

not an easy sell on Mrs. McMenamin, a strong advocate of French. Mrs. Bennette recalls the negotiations: “Of course the modern language people wanted [French] to be first, but it didn’t really make sense because Latin is the basis for French and Spanish. So I kept making the point that Latin should be first.” Her argument, likely grounded in modes of persuasion first learned in Cicero, worked. The requirement that Latin begin in Class VI stands. Mrs. Bennette also extended Classics in another direction—outside the school’s doors. In Nightingale’s first academic trips abroad, “a busload or so” of girls from Classes IX through XII toured Rome and southern Italy much as they do today. As important as the trip’s itinerary was its inclusivity. To Mrs. Bennette it was essential that every academically eligible student come along. Consequently, fundraising was both creative and fierce. The department hosted turkey dinners in which Mr. Bennette played piano, sometimes accompanying a small chorus. Students and faculty sold African violets. There was a block sale in Mrs. Bennette’s Upper West Side neighborhood, where Latinists pedaled records and old copies of National Geographic. John Klopacz, who now teaches at Stanford, recalls Bennette’s reluctance to postpone a sale for a hurricane, declaring that Vermonters do not yield to the weather. “Ever after that day,” Klopacz remembers, “when confronted with some hurdle, would look at each other and say: ‘We’re from Vermont. We can do this.’” Later with Klopacz and Diana Stone, now on the faculty at Dwight-Englewood School, Bennette formed a memorable fundraising and traveling team: “We had so much fun doing these things. We were the envy I think of the school because we [were] such a close-knit department.” As the requirements for the Nightingale diploma changed to include more science and modern languages in the 1970s, the Latin requirement was extended to Class IX. Vergil and Horace-Catullus were among the school’s first AP offerings, classes that Mrs. Bennette recalls earned a spate of fives—the top score. Furthermore, Miss von Heereman’s practice of tutoring Greek was carried forward at all levels. Though the Greek senior elective had not been taught in six years by the time Mrs. Bennette wrote her “Departmental Philosophy and Goals” in 1987, she was hopeful for a Greek revival. Her analysis on Latin was also practical. Showing concern for students entering the school in Class IX with no Latin (or means to catch up), she noted the importance of Latin instruction in secondary school because it is “the rare bird who continues the study of Latin in college…what is accomplished in Latin must be accomplished here.” 8

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

When Mrs. Bennette retired in 1990, she left a legacy that has extended beyond a curricular requirement. As she wrote in her department philosophy statement, learning the language was a means of “dealing with LIFE as well as Latin.” It should affect those whose own formal Latin education ended with the requirement in eighth grade or never enrolled at all. Appropriately, an annual lecture in her name brings classical scholars to Nightingale to continue conversation with the Greek and Roman authors for a general audience. In addition, the spirit of service and fun that drives the Classics Club recalls Mrs. Bennette’s own ethos. At Bronx Classical School our students have shared Latin lessons, tutored in mythology, and helped middle schoolers stage a Roman play. At home they decorate circular sugar cookies to look like Roman denarii. They play knucklebones for an arbiter bibendi (with grape juice) and celebrate Rome’s birthday with cake. Mrs. Boecklin, Miss von Heereman, and Mrs. Bennette founded and developed a program that has lived on through its many teachers; their personalities (and classes) were present in the dusty sort through the classics department bookcase last spring, as we packed boxes in advance of the schoolhouse renovation. Londinium and Plato’s Apology, we recalled between sneezes, must belong to Dr. Murphy, who taught the entire ninth grade about Roman Britain before they left for London, but also Greek philosophy to a decidedly smaller group senior year. The Roman Cookery of Apicius was still folded to a recipe for donuts, which Miss Stone made every February when her students were beginning to flag. There was also her well-thumbed Orpheus and Eurydice, a script for a morning meeting her students performed in Latin. Alongside Miss von Heereman’s Rom in 100 Bildern was The Handbook of Roman Imperial Coins, which brought to mind the perennial Class IX project in Dr. Dakouras’s class. Latin Songs for the Classroom—text, CD, and early model, “bass boost” portable stereo—could only be Ms. Schapiro. Months later we would re-open those boxes in a new, light-filled space unrecognizable to the founders or even to Siegman and Chase’s classmates. Between north and south glass walls, Cicero tumbled out along with Caesar’s Gallic Wars, a bundle of dry erase markers, and a flash drive of articles on the Aeneid. The new light was flattering on Gildersleeve’s Grammar and The Metamorphoses alike. As with the curriculum and the first teachers, they had aged well. Now glass-housed, something of the old would always shine through.

A Nightingale Tradition of Envisioning the Museum as Classroom April Kim Tonin / Director of Visual Education

One of the defining characteristics of the Visual Education Program is the variety and number of museums and cultural institutions teachers and students visit. On average, through the program, I have led 60 museum visits each year. In addition to the numerous permanent collections we use as part of our teaching, I work with faculty to choose special exhibitions of interest to them and their students. This year has been no exception. The museum visits we select also represent an important element in Nightingale’s focus on global education. In a sense, the students travel the world without leaving New York City. On most of our museum visits, we arrive with sketchbooks and pencils in hand. Our work in the galleries consists of looking, discussion, and time for making observational sketches and notes. Each year, the Kindergarten students begin their series of museum visits with a two-part program led by educators from the Jewish Museum. Called “Archaeology and the Ancient World,” the first session in the classroom introduces students to archaeology through the use of replicated artifacts. The girls learn about the meaning of artifacts and compare items such as ancient terracotta oil lamps with common objects found around the classroom. During their museum visit, the girls see examples of ancient artifacts in the galleries and “dig” for clay and bronze artifacts. The ultimate goal of this program is to introduce the idea that objects tell us stories about how people lived at a certain time and place. The Class VII history faculty introduced a new museum trip for their students. In October, we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to lead a lesson on Buddhist sculpture and paintings, as well as to consider the foundations of Buddhism in India, China, Japan, and Korea. The objects selected for this lesson ranged from a colossal fourteenth century fresco painting originally found in a temple from Shanxi Province in China, to a small bronze Korean Buddha, a private devotional object.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Museum visits represent an important cultural component of the modern languages curriculum. Students often become acquainted with artists who are not household names in the United States. The museum trips also enable more advanced students to interact with educators in another language, and to build vocabulary skills by conversing about topics through looking at art. In November, Amparo Barón and Hernán Sánchez took a group of their Upper School Spanish students to the Museum of Modern Art for a tour in Spanish of the exhibition, “Transmissions: Art in Eastern Europe and Latin America, 1960–1980.” Students saw how artists from countries such as Argentina, Chile, the Czech Republic, Mexico, and the former Yugoslavia responded to political conflicts in their communities. Last December marked the highly anticipated reopening of the Cooper Hewitt Smithsonian Design Museum after a lengthy renovation. Many faculty members have already brought students to see the museum’s permanent collection and temporary exhibitions. Caroline Hastie and I planned programs at the museum for all three sections of Class VI Museum Studies, to explore the relationship between the form and function of everyday objects. During our visit in October, students looked at examples of poster design, furniture, architectural details, and household ceramics. I also planned additional visits for Classes K and I, in conjunction with a special exhibition on Pixar’s animated films. The Museum Studies course is structured so that at least a quarter of the classes are held at a museum. Caroline and I are constantly researching new collections and cultural organizations to include as part of the course. This year, we worked with Urban Glass, a studio and exhibition space that specializes in glass art. Class VI students traveled to Urban Glass’s studio for a demonstration of glassblowing techniques. This presentation represents an additional connection with our classroom lesson addressing the utilitarian and artistic value of everyday objects made from a variety of materials. Another fascinating exhibition some students saw was “The Power of Pictures: Early Soviet Photography, Early Soviet Film” at the Jewish Museum. Before winter break, Upper School photography students headed to the Jewish Museum for a guided visit. Included in the exhibition were compelling photographs by Alexander Rodchenko as well as Sergei Eisenstein’s film, Battleship Potemkin.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Class II has added a couple of new sites to its comprehensive study of New York City. In January, the students visited the New York Public Library’s main building, at Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street, to learn about its collections and architectural history, and to explore the Children’s Center. Over the years, I have worked with the Class II teachers, Hai Dan Fan and Melissa Rice, to include as part of the social studies curriculum a balanced representation of iconic and neighborhood sites around New York City. In the spring, the Class II girls visited La Casa Azul, a bookstore named after Frida Kahlo’s studio in Mexico City. The girls learned about influential Latino artists from the El Barrio neighborhood. Down the block from the bookstore, the girls visited a multi-story mural on 104th Street. Entitled The Spirit of East Harlem, artists Hank Prussing and Manny Vega included portraits of neighborhood residents in this mural which was completed in the 1970s. As a year-end finale, Classes I and IV continued their tradition of visiting the Whitney Museum of American Art. We now have to travel a little farther but the effort is worthwhile. After spending time in the galleries, we ventured to the High Line for a scenic stroll, an informal history lesson about the Meatpacking District, and a picnic lunch in a quiet spot on the High Line. I am only providing a small snapshot of the Visual Education Program. There are many teachers who work independently, creating classroom lessons, leading their students to the museum during a double period for a brief lesson, or assigning independent projects based on special exhibitions. Nightingale students are sophisticated viewers. Their understanding of the works of art they have seen is complex. The girls are candid, opinionated, and unafraid to raise questions. There is a great deal of work that occurs behind the scenes, which is a testament to the Visual Education Program as a unique experience of a Nightingale education.

Music Department Traditions: The Class VII Composition Project Courtney Birch / Choral Director Sarah Taylor Ellis / Composer-in-Residence

After my first year at Nightingale, in the summer of 2004, I attended a fabulous workshop at the Juilliard School called “The Complete Choral Musician.” In addition to attending conducting master classes and discussions of repertoire, we met with several guest artists. One of the most significant visitors for me was Thomas Cabaniss, who talked to the conductor-educators about introducing more play into rehearsals and performances. He led us through multiple singing games and light-hearted warm-ups, and then talked about the creative process. He explained that we give children crayons at a very young age, and ask them to create art. We (and they) don’t worry that they don’t understand color theory or perspective, and they happily present their masterworks. Children create and elaborate on stories through pretend play, even if they cannot read. However, when we are dealing with music, we approach things in a very different way. We assume children cannot compose music, because they are not fully musically literate. I was struck by this difference. I have always been drawn to new art. In my time as a theater director, I directed new plays almost exclusively. As a choral conductor, I commissioned new repertoire from the time I was in graduate school. Over the past 13 years, Nightingale has commissioned almost 20 pieces for our Middle and Lower School girls to sing. I was very excited about helping our girls become composers. I met with Tom after the workshop, and we brainstormed a way that he could help me introduce composition to Nightingale’s Middle School music students. They would become creators, not just performers. Former English teacher Alexandra Parsons was our first collaborator. She and I decided that we would springboard off of the Class VI unit on Greek mythology, and focus on the topic of heroism. She taught her Class VI students Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird,” and in small groups, the girls moved on to create “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Hero.” Then Tom arrived for an eight-week residency, and the

composition began. This process was documented by alumna (then senior) filmmaker Daphne Schmon ‘05; the music department has a copy of her film. The girls worked through lines of text in their groups to create melodies. Tom’s rule was that if the group could sing their melody the same way three times, he or I would notate it for them. As the weeks progressed, the piece began to take shape. He put the 13 small pieces in order and wrote accompaniments and connective material. The girls edited, thought about performance style, and gave feedback on all levels. Finally, they were finished writing, and we began a seven-week process of rehearsing the combined piece, “She is a Heroine.” It was debuted at the spring concert in May 2005, with Daphne Schmon’s film playing on a loop in the lobby of the church. After that year, the project moved to other music teachers, including Melody Doering and Deadra Hart, other English teachers, including Betsey Osborne and Candi Deschamps, and other guest composers, including James Blachly and Anna Dagmar. At a music department retreat several years ago, we decided to try moving the project to Class VII, to see if the added maturity of one more year would change the process. In addition, the literature in the Class VII English curriculum, as well as the opportunity to play with the ideas of otherness and identity, seemed perfect for the program. Laura Kirk, Candi Deschamps, Maya Popa, and Brad Whitehurst started the process, and Sarah Taylor Ellis joined the project as composer-facilitator. The piece, “To the Clouds and Back,” was a resounding success. Now, Sarah Taylor Ellis has taken the composition project and established a comprehensive composition curriculum for Nightingale girls. – Courtney Birch When I began working at Nightingale as an accompanist in fall 2014, I was continually impressed by how many opportunities the students had to explore “musicking” of all sorts, from singing to playing instruments and

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

composing. Whether mentoring a student-led a cappella group or emceeing an open mic performance, the music faculty shared a passion for student-driven work. I was thrilled that Courtney Birch, knowing my background as a musical theater composer and teaching artist, invited me to mentor the Class VII composition project in spring 2015; this project would be the largest-scale piece I had created with students to date. Before joining Nightingale (and continuing during my first year of work at the school), I served as a teaching artist for Harlem School of the Arts, Roundabout Theatre Company, and the Metropolitan Opera Guild. While all of these educational organizations provided ongoing teaching artist training, the Met’s programming empowered me with invaluable skills in songwriting with students of all ages. The Met’s Students Compose Opera program sends teaching artists into inner-city schools to mentor students in adapting literature, history, science, and math into short operas. Even young elementary school students could easily grasp the concept of a “hook” and write lyrics for a catchy chorus, I quickly discovered. After writing lyrics, we would create “melody mountains” to track the natural rise and fall of our voices on each line, then we would choose a starting pitch, improvise a tune following the “melody mountain,” and assign pitches to each syllable to make a song. With Nightingale students, who have a strong musical education, I was excited to push these songwriting techniques even further. The fearless Class VII English teachers guided the students’ first brainstorming exercise: creating a collage of favorite quotes from The Outsiders, A Raisin in the Sun, and The House on Mango Street. From these quotes, we extracted major themes such as love, hope, happiness, family, and “stay gold.” These themes became the subject for each song in our cycle, and many of our lyrics were inspired by direct quotes from the books. During each visit of my 10-week residency, we spent 20 minutes writing the opening and closing number as a class, then 20 minutes working in small groups on individual songs. The first part of class would model a step in the songwriting process—such as developing a hook, writing a chorus, setting a lyric to music, or brainstorming accompaniment—and the second half of class allowed groups of three or four students to apply these techniques in their original work. Courtney and I meandered among the groups, which were scattered throughout the classroom and into the hallway, and we supported the girls’ creative process by asking questions rather than

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

providing immediate solutions. The girls learned valuable collaboration and editing skills throughout the process, and we used Notability’s writing and recording software to facilitate an easy virtual exchange of work. Over spring break last year, I collected all the materialsin-progress and began arranging the songs for piano and cello; looking out for “every girl,” we were happy to create a part for a talented student cellist who was more comfortable playing an instrument than singing. Towards the end of the compositional process, groups that had finished their song before others created a narrative order for the song cycle. “To the Clouds and Back” ultimately told the coming-of-age story of a girl who dreams of a better life; she leaves home in search of something new, experiences love and loss, and returns home in the end, grateful for her life and experiences. Once the song cycle was completed, Courtney taught, shaped, and conducted the piece in the spring concert. The girls were immensely proud of their work and, to this day, still sing snippets of their songs around the schoolhouse. Each year from here on out, I hope we can collaborate with a different department—history, science, math, etc.— and seek source material that sparks the girls’ creativity in a variety of new and unexpected directions. I was lucky to have Class VII year-round in music theory this year, and we composed a song cycle about world religions in conjunction with the history department. Since the Class VII project now has its own dedicated presentation, I am also excited to reflect on and share our compositional process with a wide audience; after all, the process of collaboration is far more important than the final product. Next year and beyond, the music department will offer a composition track for fifth through eighth grade, as well as an intro to music composition elective in Upper School. From string quartets to choral music, musical theater to opera, popular song to film music, I am overjoyed to be developing this student-driven curriculum that will expand the girls’ musical horizons while also developing their particular talents and interests. This non-performing opportunity gives our students a new and empowering mode of expression, and I am eager to see what they will create! – Sarah Taylor Ellis

Writing at Nightingale John Loughery / English

This piece first appeared in the spring 2016 issue of The Blue Doors, the magazine of the Nightingale-Bamford School.

There are two theories concerning the teaching of writing. (By “writing,” I mean, of course, not the construction of intelligible sentences and paragraphs, but the creation of meaningful, interesting analytical essays.) One approach to the matter implies that writing is a skill that can be mastered by anyone who knows how to read and follow instructions, rather like double-digit subtraction or making model airplanes or texting. This theory comes with a formula, like all of the above skills. It suggests that there is such a thing as a wellshaped essay, easily identifiable and worth an immediate pat on the back, and there is such a thing as an essay lacking that shape, or structure, from which the pat on the back is to be firmly withheld. Structure is all-important in this context, and it comes readymade like those model airplane instructions. Indeed, by this theory, a tidy structure is the starting-point of the whole business. At its most extreme, this structure would be the classic five-

paragraph essay: an introduction, three body paragraphs, and a conclusion. The teacher of this camp usually explains that an introduction can be used for three purposes: as a means to provide background information for the essay, as a slow lead-in to the topic (“introducing” it in a way that withholds anything major or disruptive in the conversation…we just met, after all), or as the place to state one’s thesis, which is preferably situated in the last sentence of that first paragraph. At its most doctrinaire, a “thesis sentence” would be spoken of, implying that any idea a student has is necessarily reducible to one sentence. When a Class IX girl asked in my first semester at Nightingale, “Well, what if your thesis can’t be summarized in one sentence, or what if your thesis is a question that isn’t fully answered because you don’t think it can be?”—I knew I had come to the right school. (By the way, she went on to the University of Chicago, debating whether to major in classics or pre-med, and recently came to lecture to my American Studies class about her current PhD fellowship work at the Metropolitan Museum. But I digress.)

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

The “body paragraphs” of the essay, as the name implies, are the meat of the essay—the important stuff, the “proof,” the weighty evidence and argument. (By implication, that level of weight must not be present in the introduction or conclusion: they are separate from the crux of the “body,” they are the appendages—useful, needed, but not of the torso.) The Internet even offers a related visual metaphor: the essay as hamburger. The top and bottom bun are the introduction and conclusion; the carnivore’s real focus is what is in-between the buns. The metaphor works if you believe in it, and it also tells you how expendable the introduction and conclusion are. I mean, you could order a hamburger and ask the waitperson at the coffee shop to hold the bun. No one yet has ordered a hamburger and said, “just the bun, please.” What counts, what you’re paying for, is the meat, i.e., the body paragraphs. One consequence of this in student

picture has to look like everyone else’s; and where the key question is not “Is this how you want me to do it?” but, rather, “Does what I’m doing work? Am I conveying what I mean to—because I do have an idea, a feeling, about what I want to say here?” The rubrics lock students into a mindset that is very hard to shed.

essays is a lot of soggy buns.

in the lower grades, and then later, when the girls are adolescents, they want to go outside the lines and use colors of their own choosing, and it all works out so well.” I can guarantee that if we began teaching art with paint-bynumbers, the equivalent of the grid approach to writing, the dazzling visual work we see on our school walls from all classes and divisions would look very different.

The devotees of this system—this grid form of writing, as I think of it—are too clever these days to invoke it in all its former glory. Few teachers assign an essay and mandate a certain number of paragraphs. They don’t even call for a minimum of three examples by way of proof as often as they used to (though I suspect they still regard three as a magic number). They are apt to say, “I would never tell my students they have to put their thesis sentence at the end of the first paragraph. That would be too rigid. But it does have to be somewhere in the first paragraph.” As to “conclusions,” they wax—confused. Restate your thesis or “sum it all up” (as if the reader had memory issues and didn’t pick the main idea up two paragraphs back?). Think of something new to say (as if new points weren’t being made all along?). Relate your topic to your life (what if it doesn’t?) or to modern life (shouldn’t that have been implicit from the start?). Students know what “filler” is when we bring up that ugly topic, and you will never encounter more filler than in the so-called conclusions of most student essays. In my ideal world, a student would never have heard of the terms “introduction,” “body paragraph,” and “conclusion.” At all levels, the English department avoids them. Writing an essay should involve the same plausibility and evoke the same delight that creating a painting or drawing does from any student in K–XII. Indeed, the art studio is my perfect metaphor: the place where what you think and feel about the subject is crucial and is known to you (indeed, it is the starting point of the whole endeavor), though you have the right to change your mind as you progress; where trial-and-error is the norm; where no one’s

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

The question is often asked, “Isn’t it sensible to begin by giving students a definite model to follow (giving them strict parameters, telling them what to put where) and then, later, when they are ready and able to, they will soar off into more adventurous modes on their own?” No. In my experience, that almost never happens. Why would anyone abandon a serviceable model that’s worked for years, earned her stars and A+’s, for the now-unknown? Believing that makes no more sense than it would if our art teachers affirmed, “We do paint-by-numbers first

But what if we began from a different starting point, entirely? What if the discussion and the process had nothing to do with “Can I find your thesis in your first paragraph?” or “What are you putting in your conclusion”? What if the questions boiled down to two very different queries: 1) “What do you have to say about this topic, what are your real thoughts?” and 2) “How do you want to begin, what would draw the reader into the essay, and then what do you think should follow from that, and then what should come next?” and so on. Most student essays founder because the student has few or no ideas to develop and argue; for good reason, she spends more time fixated on structure than content. Her next misstep, often through no fault of her own, is that she does not know “what to do next” because she believes there is a hidden agenda of right and wrong next steps. An essay can’t end when she is done arguing what she wants to argue, the way her observations in class discussions end. It has to have something else—a “conclusion.” Members of my department meet with students for oneon-one conferences for a certain number of essays during the year. (To meet for every essay would be to circumvent our own concern with risk-taking and independence. No one becomes independent by being watched over every

step of the way.) And, at those conferences, they don’t talk about introductions and conclusions or developing a thesis at the outset; they zero in on content—they brainstorm with the student, watch the student work her way through an idea, ask probing questions (gently pulling the rug out from under her, if necessary), focus on the fullness of what she has to say long before the structure of the essay is ever considered an issue. Only when it is clear that there are good questions, potential deductions, things we could call “ideas,” out there on the table—and not a minute before—does the conversation turn to the next step: OK, so—given what you are telling me that you think about this topic—what would be an interesting start and where would you want to go from there? Do you want to begin with your thesis? Fine. Do you want to begin with your anti-thesis, the argument you want to tear down? Fine. Do you want playfully to mislead the reader and make him think you believe X only to show later—the true thesis being in the last paragraph—that X is not in the long run workable? Do you want to begin with a pertinent anecdote? Do you want to begin with background information or a statement about why this is a vital issue? The possibilities could go on and on. But at this point, we should be a long way from any prepackaged notions of what an “introduction” must be. We are into the realm of writing as thinking. The process is not necessarily quick and is highly personal and developmental. I once heard a teacher say that her goal was, by the end of the academic year, to see that everyone in her section of Class VII was able to write a good essay. A tidy grid-essay that didn’t have all that much to say, possibly. A real essay with fresh thoughts and a fresh manner of expression? Loaves and fishes time, that one. The reality would depend, rather, on where her students were in their lives—in their love of reading, in their openness to debate and independent thought, in their appreciation of language, in their comfort with risktaking, and—above all—in their aversion to being told what to do. The playfulness vs. the uptightness factor is significant here. Does this mean I believe in a Calvinist elect, in the idea that some students have this capacity and others don’t and maybe never will. Not at all. (In my 17 years here, I have rarely if ever met a Nightingale student who seemed to me utterly incapable of having an opinion or an idea about any topic with which she was truly familiar.) I come from a family of non-readers. I was a resolute non-reader in middle school and a desultory reader in high school. I’d have been a B-/C+ student at Nightingale. At 21, I became a voracious reader; it was

like turning on the tap overnight, and I was ready to be a published writer in my 30s. Inner need determines everything. Outlook and motivation are the individual student’s highly personal province, though teachers and parents (parents in particular, I would say) play a role in awakening or stifling those needs. A painter friend of mine and I were talking once about a mutual acquaintance, another painter who had decided to change his style of art entirely. His career as a representational painter had never really taken off, had never moved beyond that frustrating level of notnegligible but still very modest success. He was going to paint color abstractions now, he had told us. I asked my friend if he thought Gary was going to be able to pull this off. He shrugged and answered, “You can only paint what you are.” I think that simple statement applies to writing as well. You can only write what you are. If the student in question is a person of limited reading experience, limited curiosity, limited exposure to smart, word-savvy conversations at home, limited ideas, and a preoccupation with “getting a better grade on this essay” and figuring out “what the teacher wants,” the odds of her becoming a good essay writer are much longer. If the student in question could not care less about grids, rubrics, paragraph-counting, and “Are we allowed to…?” and burns to share her responses to what she has just read or experienced, the odds are excellent. I’d even be surprised if, on a level commensurate with her age, she wasn’t there already. In that case, the teacher’s and the parent’s job is to applaud her good sense of priorities, keep those freewheeling, word-savvy conversations going, carry on with those dinner-table debates, and never cease asking that all-important question: “Oh, and why do you think that?” All good prose springs from that starting point.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Computer Science and Design Thinking Nicole Blandford / Academic Technology Coordinator

Someone quite wise once said, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Over my last four-and-a-half years at the Nightingale-Bamford School, I’ve had some changes. Much of the neon in my wardrobe has been replaced with black. To balance, my hair went from dark

cooler friends. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

brown back to its former sorority girl, blonde glory. I say “y’all” only when I want someone to bestow generosity on me because I am Southern, not as a common, daily, and even hourly replacement for “you all.” I’m friends with a Tennessee Volunteer, UCLA Bruin and Duke Blu—just kidding! Let’s not get crazy.

changed. In fact, it has seen five different iterations. Five.

I’m still the same person, even if all of these things are different. Darker wardrobe, lighter hair, different vocab,

In those same four-and-a-half years, the computer science curriculum in nearly every grade at Nightingale has also

In that time, Java has gone back to being a cup of coffee, Python is no longer a snake, Ruby isn’t just a gem and now rides the Rails, Django isn’t just a movie, Scratch isn’t about a BandAid, and in the amount of time it took me to write that sentence, and for you to even attempt to decipher it, the information in it is yesterday’s news, already outdated, on the way to antiquated, and soon to sit on the shelf with the dial-up modem, the floppy disk, and MS-DOS. There is simply no time to sit still. When the medium changes faster than we can move girls to a new grade, the question becomes: If things change so much, what can stay the same? To know what changes is easy. It is in any industry magazine (well, e-magazine, we techies don’t actually have anything in print anymore), on any tech website, or on the worldwide interwebs. To know how to change that thing and somehow remain the same, and how to engage our girls in a meaningful, long-lasting way—that is the most difficult task I have found myself faced with during my time at Nightingale. Strangely, Led Zeppelin gave me the answer: The Song Remains the Same. The goal was to give the girls the skills they need no matter what “lyrics” are being sung when they exit the

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

blue doors. But there was a problem—the girls, largely, didn’t want to sing. They sang with gusto in Lower School, but by Middle School, girl’s voices had become cautious and conscientious, and all but few brave souls have stopped singing altogether by Upper School. This brings us to year five. In year five, the focus has had to be on building a curriculum that moved from forcing girls to learn the song to allowing girls to discover it themselves and understand not only why it mattered, but how each individual girl, with her unique talents and interests, could continue to use the song that most deeply connected with her after she leaves the blue doors. If you stopped in Room 201 during this year, you would have seen the workings of a love song carefully composed over the last four-and-a-half years to invite girls to embrace their role in this exciting world of computer science and technology: Sphero robots rolling around the room; eggs being hurled out windows; pumpkins being electrified; watches being soldered; Arduinos being put together; invented with and coded; simple and parallel circuits being built and lit; heads of schools being 3D printed; memorials being fabricated and real world problems being tackled using technology. You may have heard screams of delight, you may have heard groans of frustration, and on some rare days, you may have heard a girl yell, “I love to fail,” as she embraced failure as a necessary step on the way to success. And still the learning and changing never stops. Year six will give us a makerspace, and that makerspace will change the lyrics of our song, yet again. The more things change, the more they stay the same. The goal will always be to allow girls to discover. Giving the girls all the best tools and support needed to make the greatest discoveries. Celebrating great discoveries and embracing failures along the way to success. Giving our girls their voices. Making them excited to use their voices. Empowering them to continue singing throughout their lives. With minds and hearts and voices strong.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Lower School Traditions: Signature Moments in the Lower School

A student’s time in the Lower School at Nightingale is characterized by certain signature moments. Whether it be Class XII escorting the Kindergarten upstairs on their first day, or the Daisy Ceremony at the end of the year, these traditions help define a girl’s time in Classes K–IV. They also connect her to the many students who have come before her. As time passes, new traditions take root, and some may pass into memory, but each serves the same purpose: they embody the notion that academic rigor and fun are not mutually exclusive. That is, in fact, the very ethos of Nightingale’s Lower School. This page (l to r): Class IV Colonial Fair; 100 Days of School Celebration Opposite page (clockwise from top left): Santa Lucia Assembly; Class III Castle Project; Daisy Ceremony; World Record Day Click any image to view a full gallery of photos

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Finding Her Voice: The Debate Program Candi Deschamps / English and Middle School Debate Coach

Most debates begin with a definition of terms, yet fewer words in the English language are more debatable in their definition than “tradition.” The word connotes something that has been around for a long time, something established, even expected. However, debate

director. “Everyone is so excited and we talk about all the arguments and eat candy. You end up feeling so close to the rest of the team.” Third-year team members Lia Kiam and Caroline Beroutsos enthusiastically agreed.

at Nightingale is a relatively new program. A speech and debate club existed in the Upper School in the late 1990s, but the current incarnation of the program in relatively new. The Public Forum team in the Upper School began in 2010; the Middle School program is just beginning its third year. Both programs are thriving. There are approximately 90 students in the Middle and Upper School programs combined. The Upper School program logged over 30 days of competition this year, and the Middle School team competed in six all-day Saturday tournaments this year, including the East Coast Nationals in April.

Turns out there are ways of thinking, habits, stories, and beliefs the girls have come to regard as tradition, but they are not the ones an adult might think of. Instead, the things that stood out are the times in between formal events, the time controlled by the debaters themselves. Debate is somewhat unique in that it is a three-season activity with intense collaboration and mixing between grades. In Public Forum, students compete in two-person teams on a resolution that changes monthly. This year, the girls have considered topics such as: Resolved, The United States Federal Government ought to pay reparations to African Americans; and Resolved, in response to the current crisis, a government should prioritize the humanitarian needs of refugees over its national interests. You can imagine the amount of time students put into researching and writing their cases, and it is the norm to share good articles and ideas. The team has won a lot of trophies over the years competing at the local, regional, and national levels, but all girls on the Upper School team are celebrated for their efforts in this demanding and collaborative activity. “We may compete in teams of two,” says Hartmann-Ting, “but we all are Nightingale debate.”

It was natural when asked about traditions in Upper School debate, run by faculty member L.E. HartmannTing, to think of all the practices and habits that give rhythm to our calendar, and shape and stability to our program: working on team pairings with the co-captains, Friday night competitions at Regis, preparing our annual morning meeting, the team dinner at Harvard, writing “debate news” after each tournament, and, new last year, matching new debaters with experienced ones through our mentorship program. When the girls were asked which team traditions meant the most to them, however, their answers mentioned none of the above. Turns out institutional traditions are quite different from those that become part of the lived culture. Instead of talking about tournaments at Regis, they talked about Shake Shack dinners after Regis. Instead of noting rounds of debate at Harvard, they talked about the bus ride up to Harvard where classmates mix, worry, and work on their cases together. “The bus up to Harvard is the best,” explained Zoe Lee, this year’s novice

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

The same is true at the middle school level, though it is a different program and run by a different coach. In Middle School, under English faculty member Candi Deschamps, students in Classes V through VIII have competed since fall of 2013 with the New York Debate League. The league, which is co-ed, draws students from all five boroughs of New York City as well as Westchester. It is comprised of public, private, and charter schools—making its monthly Saturday tournaments as diverse as any activity that these middle schoolers know. As of yet, Nightingale is the only all-girls school in this league, and our debaters have had a

great showing: we have won trophies for top school, top team, and top speaker at different points throughout the past three seasons. The 2015–2016 season started with some debaters in their third year, each determined to take home the “Golden Gavel” that is awarded to the top speaker at every tournament. Because girls compete in teams of three and find their own way to and from tournaments, it has become custom for them to organize their own sleepovers and “research playdates” in preparation for competition. When asked about tradition, Chloe Kim (Class VIII) cites just this— “carpooling and comparing notes!”—while other students clamor to make sure we include how Olivia Rosenfeld (Class VII) brings two pounds of cooked bacon to share with the team each game day. Unlike in Upper School, girls at the middle school level may compete with different teammates at each tournament, so being collegial is key to our wider success. Topics are not light; they range from “Ban the display of Confederate symbols” to “Animal testing does more good than harm,” and students do not know ahead of time which side of the issue they will be debating. Tutu Jereissati (Class VIII) mentions a tradition that has grown

organically out of this process. When a topic is called, and students have just 20 minutes to prepare their notes on a single sheet of colored paper, it becomes a flurry of activity. “We give each other notes, saying, ‘Hey, are you on opposition?’ and make sure all the research gets used, even if it’s not in our own debate.” The girls also mention the downtime in between debate rounds, when they mingle as a mixed-class group and take team selfies. Though the Upper School and Middle School programs are distinct from each other, a tradition of excellence in effort and achievement is being established. A member of our admissions department told us that an applicant decided to apply to Nightingale because her brother, a debater, told her Nightingale debate girls are strong. As educators, it is our job to give the girls the kind of programs they need to develop into women who command that kind of respect, but the culture and “traditions” that infuse these programs with joy and meaning are student made.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

A Tradition Abroad: The London Trip Sally Edgar / Math

According to many scholars, the Romans arrived in what is now London around 40 AD. They settled there because this was the first place inland from the North Sea that a bridge could be built across the river. Visiting London quickly became a tradition for many, including, as of November 2004, the Nightingale-Bamford School. Why did Nightingale join this tradition? What is this tradition about? First, a bit of history about the trip, which was created and still exists 12 years later with the two core values of Nightingale: the heart and the mind. Former Head of School Dorothy Hutcheson had the idea for the trip and David Murphy, classicist and former head of the Upper School, with help from others, created it. Ninth grade is an ideal year for the trip. With the exception of the Kindergarten, Class IX has the most new students. Returning students as well as new students are adjusting to school without old friends and the new expectations that come with being in the Upper School. The anticipation, classwork, and homework for the London trip helps the class to bond. Over the years Class IX history, English, science, Latin, and math teachers have researched sites in London, adapted their curriculums, learned how to navigate the vast London public transportation system (the tube, buses, and railroad), and have been chaperones for the trip to teach and guide Class IX students. Other chaperones have included Class IX advisors, homeroom teachers, the head of School, associate head of school, Upper School head, Class IX Dean, and a member of the physical education department. For an in-depth history of the trip, click the links below to see two itineraries and an article from The Blue Doors spring 2014 for Brad Whitehurst’s and Jeffrey Kearney’s reflections on the trip.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Both students and chaperones have learned much from the trip: both expected and unexpected lessons. As you can see from the reflections above, subtraction has been a lesson learned. Here are some others: •

Good tour guides combined with well-prepared students can make the past alive in the present: The guides at Saint Paul’s Cathedral, Hampton Court, and the Globe Theatre are natural teachers with both deep knowledge and passion for their sites. They delight in seeing Nightingale return every year.

•

The logistics of travel: Signing up for a passport, finding the right suitcase, packing and wearing the right clothes, riding on public transportation, budgets, exchange rates, strange food, getting lost, getting found, losing a passport or travel card, getting sick, planning, and then adjusting to changed plans.

•

The heart in travel: How to be a friend when you are tired, jet lagged, and far away from home. How to share a room with someone you have known for only a few months. How to be thoughtful to others when you just want to think about yourself.

•

Overcoming fears: flying, public speaking, homesickness, restricted access to social media, even pigeons!

•

The diplomacy of travel: Learning how to have fun in public without drawing too much attention to the group. How to look interested when listening to a talk that does not interest you.

•

And finally learning in a different kind of school, but from teachers you know.

For the chaperones finding themselves in loco parents and tour guides is a major learning experience. I can say with

certainty that no London chaperone has left Nightingale to work in a boarding school!

Above: Members of the Class of 2019 on their trip to London in November 2015.

About 480 students have gone on this trip and at least 30 adults. Each senior writes a letter to a Class IX student to open at the airport. Every Upper School teacher has had their class interrupted with a “Remember when that happened in London,” followed by gales of laughter. This is how traditions are born.

Click any image above to read the Class of 2019’s London Trip blog (login to nightingale.org required)

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

Global Partnerships: The St. Paul’s School Exchange Anne Longley / Head of Upper School

The St. Paul’s exchange was the brainchild of two good friends, Joan McMenamin (Nightingale’s headmistress from 1971–1992) and Heather Brigstock, the head of St. Paul’s. Mrs. McMenamin was very interested in exchange programs and the school had started a program of study

great pleasure in her association with the School and our students. Certainly, the faculty was delighted at the opportunity to learn from and work with her. Mrs. Wien taught a specialized course in American literature to a group of Sixth Formers at St. Paul’s in June, and I have

abroad in 1976 in France and looked into establishing one in Spain, but with little success. There was also an exchange with the Maumee Valley Country Day School in Toledo.

no doubt she was received as happily as Miss Gough was here. All of us see great benefit in this kind of project both for the faculty and for students, and we will continue them as eagerly as we can in other settings.

The exchange with St. Paul’s started in the late ‘70s and continued under Heather Brigstock’s successors to become the longest lasting and most successful exchange program Nightingale has had over the years. It was different from other exchanges in that it involved both faculty and students and had an honorific element. Both schools sent their “best and brightest” and being the faculty representative to St. Paul’s and vice versa was considered an honor. Visiting faculty attended classes in their disciplines, met with colleagues, and taught a few lessons and/or gave talks as appropriate. There was also an educational component. Upon their return faculty reported to the head and their colleagues and wrote wonderful articles for the Faculty Newsletter. The sending school paid for the airfare and gave a stipend and the hosting school provided housing.

In subsequent years, we have continued to benefit from sending and receiving students and faculty through the exchange. In recent years, it has been less of a teaching exchange than a cross-cultural taste of school in England. It is no surprise that the exchange has continued to thrive given that we read much of Shakespeare and Austen throughout our English curriculum and all of Class IX spends a full week with London as its classroom. There is no shortage of interest at Nightingale in British culture, history, and literature. It also seems that there has been an element of magic to the exchange as described by both faculty and student participants.

In a report to the Board in 1979, Joan McMenamin describes the first year of the exchange: St. Paul’s Girls’ School in London sent us Miss Janet Gough for a month this spring, and she taught ten books of Paradise Lost to a mixed class of Juniors and Seniors. Our faculty and the girls were full of admiration for her strengths as a teacher, and I believe Miss Gough felt

Carolyn Wheater, who participated in the exchange in the late 90’s, describes her experience: I had a somewhat unusual but absolutely magical experience at St. Paul’s. Usually one stays with a faculty member. That year, the long-time High Mistress was retiring and there were many special events, so they arranged for me to stay with the family of one of the girls. The parents were about my age, the daughter was my daughter, Laura’s, age, and they had a son at St. Paul’s Boys School. I got many different perspectives, faculty, parent, and student, on the educational experience in London. I

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

observed classes, and was struck by ways in which it seemed they were covering the material in much greater depth than we did, but at the same time, I was troubled by a sense of “good enough.” There was little concern for the girls who didn’t get it, because it was assumed they’d specialize in something else, and drop out of “maths.” In addition to time spent at school, I had wonderful afternoons walking about London, seeing museums and parks, going to the theater, queuing for opening day at Wimbledon (met the Williams sisters), and visiting landmarks. John Loughery describes the experience he had at St. Paul’s:

I think the program is beneficial for our girls; they need to see a different way of doing things, just as I know the two girls from St. Paul’s who sat in on the Junior English writing workshops—like the two Australian girls who became bona fide members of the class—are struck by how different our approach to writing is, how different our syllabi are. Our girls also enjoy some serious cultural immersion when they are there, seeing sites and paintings they did not see on the Class IX trip. Two recent student exchange experiences echo John Loughery’s thoughts on how the exchange benefits our students. Sara Chan ‘16 says:

The pleasures? I met such a diverse range of interesting

St. Paul’s taught me a completely different way of learning and living. In terms of academics, when I went to St. Paul’s I was honestly shocked about how different their school is.

teachers, some of whom invited me into their home. I stayed for a week with one in Harrow; the art history teacher still there, Kate Evans, had me to her house for dinner and took me to out-of-the-way museums I would never have gone to; Jonny Patrick, who just visited us, was another cordial contact; I sat in on his “Hamlet” class, which was an intellectually high-caliber session.

I assumed it would be similar to Nightingale (all-girls, small classes, interesting discussions, tight-knit community), but in London. I was very wrong. Although St. Paul’s was allgirls and did have small classes, the structure of academics was very different, mostly because girls specialize their interests by junior year and their student population is much larger (a grade is more than double ours).

It was interesting to compare notes on our differences as much as our similarities: their school’s more canonical program (at the time, anyway), the emphasis on the allimportant university entrance examination, the greater focus on areas of interest in the girls’ final two years, the different roles that academic diversity and multicultural curricula play in our societies. (Learning about about their course on nineteenth-century French art, I knew that was what I wanted to do at Nightingale someday—and did, finally, when we jettisoned the AP Art History exam.)

As a result of their specialized tracks, I saw that there was little room for exploring other interests. Girls who were interested in humanities (like my exchange student, Honor) solely took English, history, and political science classes; whereas, Sumiko Neary’s exchange student (Gen) was only interested in maths and sciences and went from double chem to double physics to quantum mathematics. I saw that the same five girls were in the same classes, and I realized that there was not much interaction between other students if they had different interests. It made me very thankful for the more “core-curriculum” we have at Nightingale because I love learning a huge range of subjects. I couldn’t imagine having to choose humanities or the sciences at only sixteen.

I went to the Tate Modern with the art history teacher and her class, and it was interesting to compare our girls’ responsiveness to art in public settings with the British students that day. Fifty percent of their student body, I was told, go on to Oxford and Cambridge, yet—I was pleased to note—I found our girls, in my experience, more ready to speak up, risk an interpretation, share a viewpoint. Some of the benefits of a trip like this come with the realization, based on comparison, that we are doing many things right and maybe don’t give ourselves enough credit all the time.

Annie Jacobson ‘15 says: The St. Paul’s exchange was a really transformative experience for me. I was with a family that was beyond lovely. We’re still in close contact, and I actually went to visit them this summer. But for me, the best time I had on the trip was time when I was alone. Being with a great family and having a home base made me feel safe,

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

allowing me to explore the city and spend my time as I pleased. I really liked Sophia’s classmates, so I loved being in classes and hanging around the school building, but the really wonderful thing is that whenever I wanted to I could pack up my stuff, take out my oyster card, and have the entire city to myself. My fondest memory of the trip was sitting in the common room of the senior class there and thinking to myself, “I could be looking at the crown jewels right now. Why am I not looking at the crown jewels right now?” So I zipped up my backpack, went to the crown jewels and had the best day sightseeing I could have hoped for. As a kid who loved Nightingale, I never would have wanted to do a semester away. But those two weeks gave me a taste of freedom and a sample of another life that was just the right duration for me. I did see another side of the human experience, though it’s true that our cultures are very similar, I got away from everything, and I learned how to eat at restaurants by myself. There is not one single doubt in my mind that if I were presented with the chance to do something similar again, I would do it ten times over. Claire du Nouy also notes the graciousness with which she was welcomed at St. Paul’s: The hospitality was amazing. Everyone was so warm. Meeting the head of school was like meeting an incredibly sophisticated and intelligent fairy. Her quarters smelled of roses and her clothes were beautiful. She was incredibly gracious and warm and spoke with such insight about the girls at her school. We had tea together and I loved it. The school itself is bustling and fun. I loved the cafeteria (they served foods from all around the world—don’t know if it was just that day or always.). Nikki Willis, dean of Classes XI and XII, participated in the exchange last spring and worked with faculty at St. Paul’s to give some definition to the exchange moving forward. When inviting applications for the exchange this year, she wrote: For years, NBS and the St. Paul’s Girls School have engaged in an exchange program that has allowed students and faculty from both schools to connect with and learn from each other through academic and cultural activities. Girls from both schools spend about two weeks in a homestay with families from the host school.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

This year marks the beginning of a new stage in this exchange as NBS students interested in going on the St. Paul’s Exchange will identify an area they are curious about (science, math, technology; history and literature; the arts (visual, theatrical, and musical) and develop an original, investigative question that would guide their time while in London. When students return to Nightingale, they will give either a student speakers series presentation or a morning meeting on their question. We were very fortunate to welcome Anna Holland and Jonny Patrick to Nightingale this fall as the exchange faculty from St. Paul’s. Maya Popa visited this spring with Class XI student Enya Zimecka. In summarizing the program, Sara Chan emphasizes the value of an exchange such as St. Paul’s and how it enriches our student experience: I think the exchange enriches the Nightingale student experience in the sense that it promotes the Nightingale value of challenging yourself and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone to learn more. People say that the St. Paul’s exchange is hardly an exchange because London is so similar to New York City, and we are essentially just going from privileged city to another privileged city. But that is completely false. The St. Paul’s Exchange might be the shortest exchange that Nightingale offers, but St. Paul’s and London were so different, it truly is a meaningful exchange.

Nightingale Dance Collective: Tradition Never Graduates Jeanne Finnigan-John / Physical Education and Dance

I was hired in 1993 to teach dance at Nightingale. It was a late hire, August if I remember correctly. I was dancing professionally with Ronald K. Brown’s EVIDENCE: A Dance Company, at the time. I really didn’t want the job, truth be told, but I needed some regular pay. A fellow dancer

Upper School Dance Club rehearsed Mondays and Wednesdays. Middle School Dance Club met only on Wednesdays. I couldn’t imagine how things got done in so little structured time. I set new standards. I made rules and set expectations high. I trimmed things down and

told me about “these gigs” on the Upper East Side of Manhattan that paid decent money. I needed “decent money” so I applied for a job at Brearley. As fate would have it, Brearley passed my resume along to Jenny Smith, athletic director at the time. Jenny basically hired me on the spot to teach modern dance part-time at Nightingale, filling in for the teacher who had just given birth to her third child.

made things simple. I was not popular with the girls. That first year of Upper School Dance Club I only had 15 girls show up for auditions, not one senior. Many of them did not understand what I was trying to accomplish. Many of them wanted things the way they had always been. Many of them became believers after our first concert that year. Many of them in the end, became the cornerstones of all that is the Nightingale Dance Collective today.

I fortunately was well trained in teaching dance. After coming to New York to study with Jennifer Muller: The Works, I had learned how to teach. Muller was a master teacher and I had studied under her tutelage and mastered her technique. I had a lot of experience teaching Muller Technique in Switzerland, in residency at Connecticut College, Purchase, and weekly at Peridance Studio in New York City. I really believed that I was overqualified to teach dance at Nightingale. I was used to teaching professionals and college students, dancers. I felt confident I could more than handle our students. Little did I know that I would be more than challenged by our girls and in ways I could have never imagined. So for the two years following, I taught modern dance in the Upper School and Middle School PE program. I learned that our students were hungry for knowledge and new experiences and I slowly fell in love with the job.

The following year it was this group of students who came to me and demanded two things. Firstly, to rename “Upper School Dance Club.” The girls really felt that the word “club” was misleading and that it did not represent the group for what it was and what it set out to do. I supported them wholeheartedly and it was my students in 1997 who renamed our group “Varsity Dance.“ Being housed in physical education/athletics, the dancers also wanted to be afforded the same amount of rehearsal time and asked me to fight for a third day of rehearsal. Together we were able to get Wednesdays added to our schedule and that year the first Varsity Dance Concert had 50 members, and so the tradition began. In 2015, it was decided that dance would become its own track, outside of the PE curriculum, and the group was renamed again, this time the Nightingale Dance Collective.

It was the fall of 1996 when I learned that the woman who directed “Upper School Dance Club” would not be returning. At Nightingale’s request, I became the sole artistic director of both the Upper School program and the Middle School program. I had a lot to do.

Like any great program, the Nightingale Dance Collective lives up to the standards of those who went before them. I believe that each year my dancers are keenly aware of the successes of those who graduate. The Nightingale Dance Collective is unique in that it is a true IX–XII

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

program that allows the dancers to build strong bonds with girls from every class in the Upper School. Seniors and juniors become leaders and mentors to the freshmen and sophomores. They create and collaborate together, and more importantly feel safe in taking risks together. Potentially, every girl leads and takes direction from her peers in a truly invaluable way. Each year we mourn our seniors who leave us and we wonder how we will ever replace them and their talents. But every year, we do. Is it luck? I think a bit, but ultimately I believe that the girls know that the foundation is there for them to create and to achieve the same kind of success. The tradition affords them the comfort, the confidence, and most importantly

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

the ownership to keep it going. To add on. To make their mark. The lessons that are learned November through February are magical. I have often said that the spring concert is truly not my favorite part. Instead if I could have hidden cameras recording our rehearsals that would be a show. What we see in rehearsalâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the process, the work, the miscues, the problem solving, the creative freedomâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;this is why girls come back. Process over product. In the end the dancers are in charge. No wonder they want it to keep going. Click the image above to view a gallery of photos from the 2016 Varsity Dance Collective concert

Student Voices: Reflections on the Student Diversity Leadership Conference

Amanda Cortes ‘16 Nightingale gives five students the incredible opportunity to attend the Student Diversity Leadership Conference (SDLC) held in December each year. The conference lasts three days and is aimed to further extend students’ diversity awareness surrounding the eight social identifiers, which include age, ability, ethnicity, gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status/class. As a participant of last year’s conference, I can attest to how it truly transformed me as a social justice advocate and as a person. Being with over 1,600 students allowed me to see the spectrum of identities that exist in our society and the issues they struggled with. It added a multidimensional perspective on how we view identity in society. What was truly inspiring was the open mike portion of the conference when people volunteered to tell their stories. It was moving to see the journeys of teenagers all over the country, which spoke to their strength in character, resilience, and courage to share with so many people. My experience attending SDLC has shaped how I approach diversity topics in school through my leadership in CAFE and also being Inclusivity Board rep for my grade. Although not everyone can go, I hope my experience will enrich our community. Danielle Louis ‘18 At SDLC I met people from 40 different states, a few different countries, and many races and ethnicities. While it was interesting to hear people’s stories and experiences, and while quickly making friends, we were eventually temporarily separated into affinity groups. At first, it was nerve-wracking to be in a room of so many people of my race (I know there were at least 700 black women in that room). But I quickly became comfortable because I knew I would not be rejected for not being “black enough”; there is no one way to be black, Latina, Muslim, or Asian, etc. You don’t have to speak in Ebonics, though you can, you don’t have to listen to rap all the time, even though that’s alright! You just have to understand that you share a culture and history, which have affected how the world looks at you and your entire race. However, while embracing the black community I learned about the lack of a community for Native Americans because they still have not recovered from the mass genocide that was a part of “discovering America.” A girl I became friends with, who wears a hijab, explained that whenever there was an attack she hoped it wasn’t someone who was or claimed to practice Islam, since it affected how people saw her and caused her community to suffer and be labeled as terrorists. I know, and had known before SDLC, that people and races are stereotyped based on the way they are seen/used in society at that time because of past events or just hatred. But it was disgusting to see how people could actively see their classmates in such a narrow-minded way. But as Charlotte Brontë stated, “Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilised by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones.” I would like to help educate my friends and others, without sounding too pretentious, about our world and its great diversity and many cultures.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

The Catherine M.S. Gordan Nightingale Mind Lecture The Catherine M.S. Gordan Nightingale Mind Lecture series celebrates intellectual life at Nightingale. Created several years ago to honor the myriad contributions made to Nightingale by former Associate Head of School Kitty Gordan in her more than 42 years at the school, the annual series focuses on the scholarly pursuits and interests of our faculty, both inside and outside the classroom. Brad Whitehurst, English Department Head, delivered this year’s lecture on Friday, April 15, entitled Better to Reign in Hell: The Construction of Satan in John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Click the image below, to hear Brad’s talk, accompanied by his slide presentation.

Faculty Newsletter May 2016

The Nightingale-Bamford School 20 East 92nd Street New York, NY 10128 www.nightingale.org

Faculty Newsletter May 2016