It’s 8:45 on a Tuesday morning, and Noah Yoon ’24 is in band practice. Trombone in hand, he hears a buzz—but it’s not from the horn. He’s gotten a notification on his phone from Choral Director Justin Solonynka: “Come to the choral room in 10 minutes. Trust me.”

Running through the possibilities, Noah thinks of one possible explanation. “It’s gotta be a mathematical investigation.” he recalls thinking. He finishes warm-ups, puts away his trombone, and walks over to the band room. Sure enough, his Precalculus teacher Nathan Bridge is standing there, along with a room full of Upper School chamber singers, including some of his Precalculus classmates, Karishma Levy ’24.

“He’s got his MacBook propped up on a music stand as if it’s a table,” Noah recalls, “and he’s holding this weird-looking recording device in his free hand. But all I could think is, ‘Oh no, I’m making my own homework.’”

In the music room, Justin Solonynka pairs up everyone in the choral room  and assigns them each a note. Two-by-two, they approach Nate’s microphone and take turns singing what was given to them. The two sounds converge into musical intervals—a major second, a perfect fifth, and then some more exciting combinations. With the recordings in hand, Nate thanks the class and departs—but Noah and Karishma know that there’s something coming up for them in class. They just don’t know what.

“During one of the next class periods, I walk in and I see a sine wave on the board—and because I’m one of the only choral singers that crossover with the precalc class, I’ve gotten a sneak peak into what this is about,” says Noah. “Nate starts class and says, ‘Okay, here’s your sine wave. It’s constructed from two musical notes. I need you to decompose this wave into the two notes. Good luck.”

Upper School Math teacher Nate Bridge structures his classroom around these investigations—a form of problem-based learning rooted in his personal pedagogical philosophy.

“When students inquire—when they investigate—they’re centering themselves in building knowledge,” explains Nate. “When they’re doing those problems, generally collaboratively with classmates, and generally in kind of an iterative sense where they can take several stabs at it—doing a rough draft, refining or getting some scaffolding questions, and trying again, they’re building their toolkit.”

Most of Nate’s class periods involve some form of investigation—like this one, the Harmonic Analysis Investigation.

“Keep in mind, we have no experience up to this point with adding or subtracting sine waves,” says Noah.

Noah’s group spent a lot of time trying to figure out the entry point to the problem—what are the important equations to use? What tools do they have in their toolkit to address the issue? After a challenging class period of trying different approaches, it seemed like none had panned out.

Meanwhile, in Karishma’s group, they had taken a slightly different approach—by smoothing out the rough edges of the sine wave, they could more easily identify its formula, and then extrapolate from that to begin to separate the two notes. But even though they got closer, they too could not finish the project by the end of the class.

But that, explains Nate, is the point.

“I don’t always expect them to get it right,” Nate explains. “When you’re investigating something that you’re not familiar with, I expect them to collaborate, test things, iterate on their ideas and above all, persevere. When you already know the answer to a question, there’s nothing really at risk. It’s like doing a science experiment that you found on Pinterest. Who cares that you got it to work?”

This is evident in the way that Noah and Karishma reflect on their project afterward. They can explain with significant nuance how to tear each sinusoidal wave apart, and how the physics of the sound wave makes the project more difficult.

Noah takes a moment to vocalize—a mid-range C. “Hearing that on its own, it sounds fine. But when you put it on a graph, it looks hideous. We’re human, not synthesizers. We can’t really hit a perfect note and sustain it over time. The wave is going to wobble, it’s going to be imperfect based on our pitch and volume—which is going to affect the frequency and amplitude—and it’s going to make the sine wave imperfect and more difficult to model.”

“It was definitely a little hard sometimes when it wiggles a little bit, but my method of madness is calling that an extreme and getting rid of it,” explains Karishma. “Those are outliers. I flatten those out and look at the sine wave—work smarter, not harder.”

So often in the math classroom, the lecture format reigns supreme. So much of the classroom experience as we remember it involves heavy textbooks, bulky graphing calculators, and a smattering of formulas on the blackboard. But what if the future of the Math classroom looks more like this—giving students the building blocks to persevere through tough applications of what they’ve learned. Some classes might include a lecture, but others might involve letting students wrestle with a challenge and struggle to find the answer. But with some encouragement, they’ll keep going and eventually uncover something new for themselves.

“It’s the question every math student asks: ‘When can I use this?’” says Karishma. “And Nate is constantly answering that question.”

Classes do not just materialize in a ready-made syllabus. They are the product of weeks and months of careful consideration, research, meaning-making and collaboration. And even then, not every course fits into a curriculum, especially when there are only so many hours of school in a day.

But when the stars align, new classes can be an incredible source of energy and renewal for the school. And that’s exactly what Upper School Spanish Teacher Brian Cassady, Upper School English Teacher Sheila Pai, and Director of Student Support and Wellbeing Dan Taboada experienced when they transformed the FarmEx program into a year-long class called Small Farms.

“FarmEx started as a way to get students to see the campus as a living space,” says Sheila. “It was one of our experiential learning offerings: Students could take time outside of class — like for theatre or athletics — and spend time getting their hands dirty in the campus farm, putting on their beekeeping suits, and learning about local and national issues, like the perils of factory farming or the differences between native and invasive species.”

While FarmEx was an incredible experience, the lack of dedicated, in-school working periods made it difficult to plan too far ahead, and it was not always possible to coordinate everyone to be in the same room (or field) at the same time.

“There’s something to be said for carving out time during the school day to do this important work,” says Brian. “When teaching a class, you have to make sure you have enough material to last a semester. But that was almost the easy part for the Farm, since there’s always work to be done.”

Maybe, too much work.

With a class as big as Small Farms, it would be almost unthinkable that it would be led by just one teacher alone. There were at least three important but distant physical spaces — the Farm, the Beehives, and the Classroom — and a class’s worth of work to be done in each of them. From tending the gardens to composing essays, the students would certainly have their hands full, but that’s assuming a teacher could be in three places at once.

The scope of the class’s ambition made it clear that if they wanted to make this work, they had to have at least three people leading the charge: Brian, Sheila and Dan agreed that it would be worth whatever growing pains it would take to get there.

“I was immediately up for it, because team teaching is such an incredible experience for us as educators,” says Sheila. “There’s a way in which it’s like a microcosm of the learning environment, because each teacher provides a different viewpoint, a different lens to see the same classwork. So you end up leaving each class saying ‘Even though I saw the lesson plan, I learned something new today.’”

For the three class leads, team teaching lets them lean on each other as direct support. When they’re together, they can jump in to add energy on particular topics as they come up, handing off ideas as easily as passing a ball. Then, they can split apart when they need to do separate, smaller group projects: Brian can take one group to the beehives while Dan brings another group to work on the planters and Sheila leads a third group in readings.

Having more than one teacher also gives students access to a broader array of teaching styles and personalities in the classroom, offering an opportunity to connect with their teachers in new ways.

“You never really know with whom a student is going to resonate,” says Sheila. “Some students are going to want to work with Brian, some students are going to align more with Dan’s interests and expertise. A few students came up to me and said ‘Oh, I really love herbalism. I want to learn more about remedies.’ And that’s available to them.”

“This year is a pilot,” says Brian. “But it’s such a unique class. It includes students from all four grades in Upper School, which is pretty special. So students who go through the class one year can come in the next year and say, ‘So what are we learning this year?’”

By having some of the same students come through the class repeatedly, the teachers hope to provide a place where students can bring what they learned in previous years to bear in later years. In effect, students may be able to take Lower Schoolers on Creek Walks, show Middle Schoolers around the Bee Yard, or even lead younger classmates in discussions about what they have already learned. In this way, students will also get a chance to see what it’s like to teach with the team.

“The great thing about this class is that the seasons are always changing,” says Dan. “We get to really see a timelapse, month over month, year over year. We get to see how the beehives hibernate and fight to survive in the winter. We get to look at the cycle of renewal, and watch as they come back, in all hopes, in the Spring. We get to look at soil health and permaculture in the Fall, and sustainable growing practices. The weather is always changing – but with us three leading the class, there will always be at least one of us ready to take advantage of every opportunity our small farm has to offer for learning, growth and well-being.”

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Story has been adapted from Oak Leaves, Fall/Winter 2022 Issue.

Students in the Upper School are not only leaders at AFS — they are the future leaders of our communities. As part of their Quaker education, they are learning the importance of using their voices to improve the world around them, to stand up to and correct injustice, and to inspire each other to reach new heights. It is critical that students have the opportunity to speak with and learn from individuals who are using their voices to be a force for justice in the world — individuals like Kareem Rosser.

Born and raised in a neighborhood of West Philadelphia called The Bottom, Rosser and his brothers had no expectations of one day being national polo champions. But when they happened upon a barn full of horses in Fairmount Park, their lives changed in ways they had never imagined. What started as an after school job became riding lessons, trips to practice polo in the Hamptons, and eventually the first all-Black team to win the National Interscholastic Polo Championship.

Rosser’s unique and incredible life made him the perfect interlocutor for a group of Upper School students from English teacher Terri Wiley’s “African American Literature” and Upper School Director Brendon Jobs’ “Echoes of Black Culture” courses. Students in both classes read Rosser’s book Crossing the Line: A Fearless Team of Brothers and the Sport That Changed Their Lives Forever, in preparation for the discussion last December.

Rosser opened up with the students about his journey, explicating on some of the themes of the book and giving students the space to ask questions and get a better understanding of his journey. He spoke at length about growing up in The Bottom, dealing with acute anxiety and mental health issues, seeing his friends and loved ones struggle with addiction, and what it was like being one of the only Black men in a sport dominated by rich white people.

“It was really great to see someone who lived some of the same experiences that I’ve had, and see how he’s kept going,” says Najib Stevenson ’23, a student in Terri’s class. “He’s seen the effects of addiction issues, he’s dealt with the unexpected death of people who were close to him. But at the same time, he’s a black man in a traditionally white area, and he’s excelling. That was really rad to see.”

Kareem did not mince words about the challenges faced by those who wanted to make sports like polo more accessible to people of color: Owning and stabling a horse is an expensive proposition, and most riders need more than one to be competitive. But he still spoke optimistically about helping to promote a culture where people in neighborhoods like The Bottom could learn about polo and pursue it if they were interested. To this end, he has helped to organize the inaugural Philadelphia Polo Classic in September 2022, which he hoped would “bring the Hamptons and West Philly together — bridging my two worlds.” The event was a massive success, boasting attendance of over 3,000 people from throughout Philadelphia, many of whom had never seen polo played before.

“Listening to his story, it helped me to reflect on and encouraged me to continue to be great and make an impact,” says Grace Barlow ’23. “Especially as a senior, I’m finishing up at AFS and moving on soon, and it was really a pat on the back to see someone who was able to create something out of nothing.”

Throughout the book, Rosser wrote at length about his struggles with his mental health. While this issue has become much more directly addressed by members of younger generations, Rosser remembers a different culture around mental health when he was growing up. “When I was in high school, nobody talked about anxiety,” Rosser told the group. “I’ve had people approach me to thank me for talking about mental health so frankly. I do like to think that it has encouraged people to get help. People were suffering, and knowing it’s ok to be open, that it’s not weak, it’s really important.”

“I think what I took away from it was that I do have a lot to offer,” reflected Jade Sanders ’24, one of the discussion leaders. “I have a lot of fear and anxiety. Even when put into the position to lead the discussion, it can be really scary. But from listening to his talk, and this whole class in general, I’ve learned so much about myself.”

“One thing I learned about myself through facilitating this conversation is that it’s not me vs everyone else, it’s me vs. myself,” explained Sydney Johnson ’24, another discussion leader. “ I don’t know how to put it into words. I’m not just doing this to make other people happy. I’m doing it for myself.”

As 11th grade students prepare for 12th grade, and seniors prepare for graduation, the importance of cultivating these leadership skills becomes ever more important. Students are learning to walk their own path, which is no easy task. Building the confidence to lead your life in the direction of your choosing can make all the difference.

“When you’re in the middle of living your journey, you can’t always see how far you’ve come,” Rosser said. “I wrote this book for everyone. People are always going through something. Anyone who picks this book up can be inspired. I always tell people, ‘Just wake up and believe.’ There’s always some good in bad situations. There is always some good.”