Este es el podcast que elaboramos Ana Maria Ibañez, Jorge Brito y yo.
http://eduardorx.podomatic.com/
viernes, 7 de diciembre de 2007
RESEÑA PODCAST
Hola a todos los compañeros de CCH.
Es muy agradable participar en este curso de Herramientas Digitales porque siempre aprendemos algo nuevo acerca de las nuevas tecnologías aplicadas a la educación, pero sobre todo lo más importante es la convivencia con todos ustedes.
Hablando del podcast considero que es un elemento adicional que se suma a los anteriores y lo cuál se traduce en una amplia posibilidad como recurso educativo, ya que podemos utilizar texto , video, escritura, voz e imagen.
Es muy agradable participar en este curso de Herramientas Digitales porque siempre aprendemos algo nuevo acerca de las nuevas tecnologías aplicadas a la educación, pero sobre todo lo más importante es la convivencia con todos ustedes.
Hablando del podcast considero que es un elemento adicional que se suma a los anteriores y lo cuál se traduce en una amplia posibilidad como recurso educativo, ya que podemos utilizar texto , video, escritura, voz e imagen.
miércoles, 5 de diciembre de 2007
SLIDESTORY. Opinión
Ésta es la segunda ocación en que tengo oportunidad de trabajar con lo que se denomina "Slidestory". Hace seis meses tuve visos del alcance que podría tener ésta herramienta en la labor del docente, pero hoy, con este nuevo acercamiento, lo cuál implica más práctica con este recurso, y la paciencia de Mary de Jesús y Arturo (expositores) tengo más conciencia de lo que es y puede llegar a ser el "slidestory" en la vida académica del CCH.
Nosotros lo maestros tenemos que darle una utilidad más práctica a esta herramienta de escritura, audio y video para no quedar marginados en el rapidísimo avance de la tecnología en la educación.
Nosotros lo maestros tenemos que darle una utilidad más práctica a esta herramienta de escritura, audio y video para no quedar marginados en el rapidísimo avance de la tecnología en la educación.
viernes, 22 de junio de 2007
Lectura
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE BUTTERFLY
THERE was once a butterfly who wished for a bride, and, as may be supposed, he wanted to choose a very pretty one from among the flowers. He glanced, with a very critical eye, at all the flower-beds, and found that the flowers were seated quietly and demurely on their stalks, just as maidens should sit before they are engaged; but there was a great number of them, and it appeared as if his search would become very wearisome. The butterfly did not like to take too much trouble, so he flew off on a visit to the daisies. The French call this flower "Marguerite," and they say that the little daisy can prophesy. Lovers pluck off the leaves, and as they pluck each leaf, they ask a question about their lovers; thus: "Does he or she love me?- Ardently? Distractedly? Very much? A little? Not at all?" and so on. Every one speaks these words in his own language. The butterfly came also to Marguerite to inquire, but he did not pluck off her leaves; he pressed a kiss on each of them, for he thought there was always more to be done by kindness.
"Darling Marguerite daisy," he said to her, "you are the wisest woman of all the flowers. Pray tell me which of the flowers I shall choose for my wife. Which will be my bride? When I know, I will fly directly to her, and propose."
But Marguerite did not answer him; she was offended that he should call her a woman when she was only a girl; and there is a great difference. He asked her a second time, and then a third; but she remained dumb, and answered not a word. Then he would wait no longer, but flew away, to commence his wooing at once. It was in the early spring, when the crocus and the snowdrop were in full bloom.
"They are very pretty," thought the butterfly; "charming little lasses; but they are rather formal."
Then, as the young lads often do, he looked out for the elder girls. He next flew to the anemones; these were rather sour to his taste. The violet, a little too sentimental. The lime-blossoms, too small, and besides, there was such a large family of them. The apple-blossoms, though they looked like roses, bloomed to-day, but might fall off to-morrow, with the first wind that blew; and he thought that a marriage with one of them might last too short a time. The pea-blossom pleased him most of all; she was white and red, graceful and slender, and belonged to those domestic maidens who have a pretty appearance, and can yet be useful in the kitchen. He was just about to make her an offer, when, close by the maiden, he saw a pod, with a withered flower hanging at the end.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"That is my sister," replied the pea-blossom.
"Oh, indeed; and you will be like her some day," said he; and he flew away directly, for he felt quite shocked.
A honeysuckle hung forth from the hedge, in full bloom; but there were so many girls like her, with long faces and sallow complexions. No; he did not like her. But which one did he like?
Spring went by, and summer drew towards its close; autumn came; but he had not decided. The flowers now appeared in their most gorgeous robes, but all in vain; they had not the fresh, fragrant air of youth. For the heart asks for fragrance, even when it is no longer young; and there is very little of that to be found in the dahlias or the dry chrysanthemums; therefore the butterfly turned to the mint on the ground. You know, this plant has no blossom; but it is sweetness all over,- full of fragrance from head to foot, with the scent of a flower in every leaf.
"I will take her," said the butterfly; and he made her an offer. But the mint stood silent and stiff, as she listened to him. At last she said,-
"Friendship, if you please; nothing more. I am old, and you are old, but we may live for each other just the same; as to marrying- no; don't let us appear ridiculous at our age."
And so it happened that the butterfly got no wife at all. He had been too long choosing, which is always a bad plan. And the butterfly became what is called an old bachelor.
It was late in the autumn, with rainy and cloudy weather. The cold wind blew over the bowed backs of the willows, so that they creaked again. It was not the weather for flying about in summer clothes; but fortunately the butterfly was not out in it. He had got a shelter by chance. It was in a room heated by a stove, and as warm as summer. He could exist here, he said, well enough.
"But it is not enough merely to exist," said he, "I need freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for a companion."
Then he flew against the window-pane, and was seen and admired by those in the room, who caught him, and stuck him on a pin, in a box of curiosities. They could not do more for him.
"Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers," said the butterfly. "It is not very pleasant, certainly; I should imagine it is something like being married; for here I am stuck fast." And with this thought he consoled himself a little.
"That seems very poor consolation," said one of the plants in the room, that grew in a pot.
"Ah," thought the butterfly, "one can't very well trust these plants in pots; they have too much to do with mankind."
THE END.
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE BUTTERFLY
THERE was once a butterfly who wished for a bride, and, as may be supposed, he wanted to choose a very pretty one from among the flowers. He glanced, with a very critical eye, at all the flower-beds, and found that the flowers were seated quietly and demurely on their stalks, just as maidens should sit before they are engaged; but there was a great number of them, and it appeared as if his search would become very wearisome. The butterfly did not like to take too much trouble, so he flew off on a visit to the daisies. The French call this flower "Marguerite," and they say that the little daisy can prophesy. Lovers pluck off the leaves, and as they pluck each leaf, they ask a question about their lovers; thus: "Does he or she love me?- Ardently? Distractedly? Very much? A little? Not at all?" and so on. Every one speaks these words in his own language. The butterfly came also to Marguerite to inquire, but he did not pluck off her leaves; he pressed a kiss on each of them, for he thought there was always more to be done by kindness.
"Darling Marguerite daisy," he said to her, "you are the wisest woman of all the flowers. Pray tell me which of the flowers I shall choose for my wife. Which will be my bride? When I know, I will fly directly to her, and propose."
But Marguerite did not answer him; she was offended that he should call her a woman when she was only a girl; and there is a great difference. He asked her a second time, and then a third; but she remained dumb, and answered not a word. Then he would wait no longer, but flew away, to commence his wooing at once. It was in the early spring, when the crocus and the snowdrop were in full bloom.
"They are very pretty," thought the butterfly; "charming little lasses; but they are rather formal."
Then, as the young lads often do, he looked out for the elder girls. He next flew to the anemones; these were rather sour to his taste. The violet, a little too sentimental. The lime-blossoms, too small, and besides, there was such a large family of them. The apple-blossoms, though they looked like roses, bloomed to-day, but might fall off to-morrow, with the first wind that blew; and he thought that a marriage with one of them might last too short a time. The pea-blossom pleased him most of all; she was white and red, graceful and slender, and belonged to those domestic maidens who have a pretty appearance, and can yet be useful in the kitchen. He was just about to make her an offer, when, close by the maiden, he saw a pod, with a withered flower hanging at the end.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"That is my sister," replied the pea-blossom.
"Oh, indeed; and you will be like her some day," said he; and he flew away directly, for he felt quite shocked.
A honeysuckle hung forth from the hedge, in full bloom; but there were so many girls like her, with long faces and sallow complexions. No; he did not like her. But which one did he like?
Spring went by, and summer drew towards its close; autumn came; but he had not decided. The flowers now appeared in their most gorgeous robes, but all in vain; they had not the fresh, fragrant air of youth. For the heart asks for fragrance, even when it is no longer young; and there is very little of that to be found in the dahlias or the dry chrysanthemums; therefore the butterfly turned to the mint on the ground. You know, this plant has no blossom; but it is sweetness all over,- full of fragrance from head to foot, with the scent of a flower in every leaf.
"I will take her," said the butterfly; and he made her an offer. But the mint stood silent and stiff, as she listened to him. At last she said,-
"Friendship, if you please; nothing more. I am old, and you are old, but we may live for each other just the same; as to marrying- no; don't let us appear ridiculous at our age."
And so it happened that the butterfly got no wife at all. He had been too long choosing, which is always a bad plan. And the butterfly became what is called an old bachelor.
It was late in the autumn, with rainy and cloudy weather. The cold wind blew over the bowed backs of the willows, so that they creaked again. It was not the weather for flying about in summer clothes; but fortunately the butterfly was not out in it. He had got a shelter by chance. It was in a room heated by a stove, and as warm as summer. He could exist here, he said, well enough.
"But it is not enough merely to exist," said he, "I need freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for a companion."
Then he flew against the window-pane, and was seen and admired by those in the room, who caught him, and stuck him on a pin, in a box of curiosities. They could not do more for him.
"Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers," said the butterfly. "It is not very pleasant, certainly; I should imagine it is something like being married; for here I am stuck fast." And with this thought he consoled himself a little.
"That seems very poor consolation," said one of the plants in the room, that grew in a pot.
"Ah," thought the butterfly, "one can't very well trust these plants in pots; they have too much to do with mankind."
THE END.
Plan de clase
Elaborado por: Ivonne Pozos Moreno, Azucena Higareda, Eduardo Rodríguez y Aurora Pérez.
Comprensión de lectura, inglés III
Nivel de comprensión del tema: Reciclaje
Objetivo específico: El alumno utilizará sus conocimientos acerca de práfrasis para la elaboración de una con base en la lectura "The Butterfly" de Hans Christin Andersen.
Prelectura:
Activación de conocimientos
Los alumnos verán un poster que contiene una breve biografía del autor del texto e imágenes alusivas al mismo. Actividad individual. 10 minutos
Posteriormente dan una lluvia de ideas de acuerdo a lo que vieron en el poster, se escribirán en el pizarrón. Actividad grupal. 5 minutos.
Se hará un breve comentario grupal con base en la lluvia de ideas. 5 minutos
Lectura:
Se da el texto a los alumnos y lo leen. Actividad en pareja. 15 minutos
Los alumnos contestan un cuestionario de cinco preguntas guiadas para que conozcan, entiendan y se familiaricen con el contenido y tema del texto. Actividad en parejas. 15 minuos
Los alumnos hacen una interpretación del texto aplicándola a las relaciones humanas, y comentan. Actividad en equipo de 3 ó 4 integrantes. 15 minutos
Slide story: Los alumnos ven una slide story que contiene los pasajes más relevantes del cuento para reafirmar la comprensión del mismo y les servirá de base para la realización de su paráfrasis. Actividad individual. 10-15 mimutos
Poslectura:
Los alumnos realizan una paráfrasis del cuento y se revisa de manera grupal. 20 minutos.
Tarea: Los alumnos realizan un poster con su paráfrasis y la envían al blog del profesor.
Comprensión de lectura, inglés III
Nivel de comprensión del tema: Reciclaje
Objetivo específico: El alumno utilizará sus conocimientos acerca de práfrasis para la elaboración de una con base en la lectura "The Butterfly" de Hans Christin Andersen.
Prelectura:
Activación de conocimientos
Los alumnos verán un poster que contiene una breve biografía del autor del texto e imágenes alusivas al mismo. Actividad individual. 10 minutos
Posteriormente dan una lluvia de ideas de acuerdo a lo que vieron en el poster, se escribirán en el pizarrón. Actividad grupal. 5 minutos.
Se hará un breve comentario grupal con base en la lluvia de ideas. 5 minutos
Lectura:
Se da el texto a los alumnos y lo leen. Actividad en pareja. 15 minutos
Los alumnos contestan un cuestionario de cinco preguntas guiadas para que conozcan, entiendan y se familiaricen con el contenido y tema del texto. Actividad en parejas. 15 minuos
Los alumnos hacen una interpretación del texto aplicándola a las relaciones humanas, y comentan. Actividad en equipo de 3 ó 4 integrantes. 15 minutos
Slide story: Los alumnos ven una slide story que contiene los pasajes más relevantes del cuento para reafirmar la comprensión del mismo y les servirá de base para la realización de su paráfrasis. Actividad individual. 10-15 mimutos
Poslectura:
Los alumnos realizan una paráfrasis del cuento y se revisa de manera grupal. 20 minutos.
Tarea: Los alumnos realizan un poster con su paráfrasis y la envían al blog del profesor.
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