We return to the classroom from lunch at 1:00. The return walk down the stairs is always a little fidgety, the effect of a thirty minute bombardment of non-stop noise.Once we step into our room, there are usually small outbreaks of students propelling into, then falling on top of one another, cuddling in corners, quiet giggling, and an occasional lunchroom crisis to adjudicate after the fact. By the time we're settled and ready to begin Read Aloud, sometimes as much as ten minutes may have passed. Once I open the book of the day and read the title, inevitably someone raises a hand and asks, "May I go to the bathroom?"
This is one of those moments a first grade teacher needs to have (and put to good use) a sense of humor. I admit this question sets my teeth on edge. Each day at the same time I remind 1D students they have 50 minutes of recess and lunchroom to take a bathroom break. I emphasize that once we have returned to the classroom, I like for them to stay put. They're on "my time." Never fear, good readers, of course I send the student with the raised hand off to the bathroom, with the caveat: "Try to return as soon as possible -- you're going to miss the beginning of Read Aloud!" That usually gets them back to the room in less than 2 minutes, and that includes the commute down the hall to the bathroom!
There's a reason our students return to class as quickly as they do -- they love Read Aloud! In November we dreamed daily about Read Aloud Dragons. We thrilled to tales of Saint George slaying the Dragon, Chinese rain and fire dragons, fire-breathing dragons, dragons who possessed many heads, (Hydra) dragons who looked like serpents and lived in the sea (leviathans) -- you name the dragon type and we learned a little bit about it. We talked about the fact that dragons appear in stories from cultures the world over; we discussed why ancient peoples finding large fossil bones and footprints might have imagined that large monsters slithered over the land or flew through the skies. We discussed how myths evolved as people told stories to explain things about their world that they could not understand. We really found a terrific source of dragon lore in Gail Gibbons' Behold...The Dragons! (William Morrow and Co.,publishers, New York, NY, 1988.)
After Read Aloud, we have recently begun a new aspect of Writing where one student chooses to share a recent journal entry with the class. Prior to Read Aloud I ask if any student is willing to share a recentjournal entry with the class. I need to find a willing reader/writer prior to their reading the piece for the simple reason that I will need to get this student's permission to copy his or her journal entry onto a white board for the whole class to see. After the journal entry is copied, the class sits down in front of the white board and the student writer reads it to the class. After reading, he or she may take four student comments or compliments about the piece. These days we're working on making specific references to the writer's content; for example, a student listening to the piece might comment, "I really liked the way you read the story!" which, although a pleasant and reassuring compliment, has nothing to do with the student's writing. We have discouraged comments about how someone reads because we want to focus on what the writing is about.
A better comment, we're learning, focuses on something about the writing that is worth remembering. We're looking to spotlight words and ideas that help us to see what the author is writing about. For example, the other day Meghan wrote about buying a fairy book. In her piece she told us that over the weekend she bought a book about Pearl the Winter Fairy at a bookstore with her mother, her father and her brother. In her journal she said she was looking forward to buying another fairy book soon. When we made comments about Meghan's entry, students noted that she had included details about who went with her, what she bought and when she made her purchase. Someone said they liked that Meghan told us the name of the book she bought. We are trying to encourage our student authors to include information that answer the "5Ws and an H" questions (for the uninitiated: Who, What, Where, When, Why and How questions).
Taking comments in the form of feedback turns out to be the easy part. Sharing writing also means that the whole class will examine and edit your writing for spelling and punctuation -- which is the reason I wrote the journal entry down on the white board. After listening to Meghan's piece about purchasing her fairy book, we looked really closely at her spelling and her punctuation. She made a couple of spelling errors (e.g., we added an "a" to "Perl" to become "Pearl"; we added an "e" to "brothr". Meghan had also forgotten to capitalize the first word in one of her sentences and forgot to capitalize Pearl's name.
We read through the piece, word by word and made corrections. The students have learned that we will look for spelling and capitalization errors and make corrections on the board in a different color. They also know that we're going to point out the work that was done correctly. We will mention when a student followed the rules correctly. In Meghan's case, she remembered how to spell all but one or two words, and she remembered to use the rules of punctuation and capitalization correctly in all but two instances. I want the students to know that when you share your work, you trust that your peers will value your work and your effort. It is a very brave thing they do when they show their classmates their writing. In effect they proclaim to everyone in the class, "I'm proud of my work and want to share it with you. I'm prepared for you to find a mistake or two, because we're going to learn together by looking carefully at my work!"
At the end of our sharing session, we give the student author a huge celebratory round of applause. Everyone knows it can be challenging to take a chance that they may have made a mistake. If I have done my job well in preparing the students in our class to take risks, they will know that because they have shared their work with their peers, everyone in the class will be better writers.
After our sharing session, we adjourn to our seats where we write for one-half hour to forty minutes. In the next few weeks, we'll move toward publishing our best entries. Some of our students will write about facts, some will write about personal experiences, some will retell favorite stories. Look for more stories about 1D writers in coming entries.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
My Mother-in-Law died this week
My mother-in-law died this week. Actually she died one week ago today. The reason I mention this is to note her passing, since she was a terrific woman, and one could argue, my model for the past thirty-eight years. As a young bride of twenty-two I watched her evolution as wife and mother, dedicated daughter and confidante to her three living siblings into scion (scioness?) and matriarch of a large extended family of far-flung children, grandchildren, numerous nieces and nephews. Mom gracefully navigated above the fray, always generous with her time, making endless cups of team while mentoring family and other non-family members. She spread joy, news and cheerful advice liberally, always refraining from criticism. She prayed formally and informally for everyone, celebrated life and the lives of her offspring with a joy that we all envied and appreciated. A faithful member of the AOH, (Ancient Order of Hibernians) she regularly attended ceili where she danced the jigs and reels of her youth, and only gave up dancing when her spouse of fifty-eight years passed away four years ago.
So why speak of her at a blog dedicated to talking about teaching? Well, I want to write about her! But I'll try and connect the dots because I think she gave me so much material to make sense of. It may take a while to truly comprehend how much influence Mom actually had upon me, which was considerable.
Let me start at the events which immediately precipitated her entering the hospital.
A week ago Thursday on my way to a get-together with the Mavens, a group of (some retired and some not yet) educators from my school who meet for a monthly dinner, my husband called and informed me that his mother had gone to the local hospital earlier that evening. She had apparently taken a fall upon returning from her great-niece's birthday party that afternoon. Her niece had been with her, and although she had gotten up and walked away from the fall, the niece was concerned that she had been disoriented and needed to be checked by a doctor. My mother-in-law remained in the emergency room, where she was waiting test results. Since my husband was an hour and a half away, it fell to me to check in upon her when her niece left.
I arrived in the emergency room to discover my mother-in-law nauseous and bruised, but cautiously optimistic that she would be home the next day. She proceeded to outline the day's events and regale me with stories of her great niece's elaborate 12th birthday party which had taken place in various stages: a luncheon (she expressed amazement at the sophisticated palettes of the 12 year-old guests: they ordered "just like adults" she mused), a stop at a store/spa where the guests entered a backroom and had their make-up done, and nails painted ("so grown-up, so indulgent!") and a final treat from her niece -- each guest was allowed to pick out a piece of jewelry from the store. My mother-in-law thought this was all very exciting for her young great-niece. She wasn't convinced it was necessary - or even advisable -- ("Whatever happened to a party given at your parent's house, with cake and ice-cream and favors?" "Wouldn't a sleep-over have been just as much fun?") but, at eighty-six, she was pleased to be included in the merriment.
We spoke about the day's events and what the doctors planned for her the next day: tests and more tests -- they had given her a clean bill of health from the fall -- nothing on the catscan, no broken bones; however, they had detected an arrhythmia and wanted to see if her very fast beating heart would "right itself" during the night. In the meantime, she was given fluids and a drug to assist in slowing down her racing heart.
Assured that she was in good hands that night, I went home with the promise that I would check in on her the next day, either at home or in the hospital.
Mom remained in the hospital all day Friday. Her rapidly beating heart simply wouldn't slow down. The doctor planned on giving her coumadin, a drug which thins the blood. Apparently the continuing arrhythmia meant the possibility (although low, only a purported 5%)of a stroke risk. When I saw my mother-in-law Friday night after work, she was sitting in a large comfortable chair in an I.C.U. The hospital claimed there were no beds in the Intermediate Care Unit, and the I.C.U. was virtually empty so Mom was pretty much guaranteed a lot of high quality care. I arrived at 6:00 and we spent the next three hours gossiping about children and grandchildren. My sister-in-law and her cousin had all visited earlier in the day, and there was always much to discuss. My husband called during the visit and Mom dismissed my husband saying, "Let me off the phone -- I want to talk to your wife." My husband later ruefully noted that these were his mother's final words to him.
I thought my mother-in-law seemed a little downhearted and with good reason. She had spent the day cooped up in a room full of medicinal bells and whistles, stuck (literally) to an I.V. with the impending threat of continuing needle sticks and ongoing need for blood-thinners. Her heart continued to run amok, and Mom's willing it to slow down was not doing the trick. So after a slight diversion by a Celtic-cross-tatooed red-headed phlebotomist who flirted unabashedly with my mother-in-law, and, I suspect, every other woman whom he encounters, I decided to veer the conversation towards my first graders and their bathroom woes. In retrospect, I find my decision to share 1st grade bathroom stories a little odd. Perhaps I just wanted to lighten things up a bit. Maybe I just wanted to shift the stage radically from hospital to school. Anyway, it's what we talked about that night.
First graders in our building are confronted with a very long walk to the bathroom. In Kindergarten the bathrooms are, in two out of three classes, adjoined to the room. The walk is short. If there is an emergency, it only takes two or three steps to get to the required space. For first graders, the walk is daunting. Our three first grade classrooms are down a long corridor, a big turn and then halfway down another hallway. Emergencies are truly emergencies. At the beginning of the year, we spend time practicing walking through the hallways, acclimating ourselves to where everything is, where to go when you need the nurse, when you need a drink, how long it takes to get to different places, etc. We talk about what bathrooms are for; bathrooms are not places to have parties and you don't want to spend a lot of time there, you should "do your business" carefully and quickly, wash your hands and then, get back to the classroom as quickly as possible. Sometimes the lure of the long walk can be a good way to take a break and some students take advantage of it. I try to encourage the shortest break possible by telling the student making the bathroom request, "I'm counting how long you will be gone!" " I really need for you to return as quickly as possible." "Let's not waste time!" For the most part, students are responsive to these cues and return quickly.
Almost every week there is a bathroom story. Some are more interesting than others, and some are funnier than others. Sometimes I find my student's bathroom habits amusing and other times they can be annoying. They always reflect common six-year old behaviors and you just have to roll with the punches, so to speak. On Friday last, I told Mom a typical first grade bathroom stories that happened earlier this fall.
A male student who likes to take a bathroom break returned to the classroom from the boys' room with a look of horror on his face. "Mrs. D, when I was in the bathroom a second grader (always a culprit) crawled over the wall and looked at me when I was naked! I told him to go away - then he turned out the light!" There's nothing more frightening in our first floor boys' room than turning out the light, because our boys' and girls' rooms are completely without natural light - they're very dark.
"Do you know who it was?" I asked. "He was wearing an orange-striped shirt." I informed my student teacher where I was going, Jimmy and I excused ourselves and headed for the second grade classroom. Once there we quickly spotted the striped-shirt boy who was in my classroom the previous year and I told his teacher the scenario and problem. She agreed to send the perpetrator into the hall for an interview. The three of us stood outside the second grade classroom door. George knew the jig was up; he looked at his feet and couldn't look me in the eye. I opened the conversation with, "George, did you crawl over the bathroom stall wall and look at Jimmy?" "I did," he nodded quickly. He didn't try to conceal his perfidy. "You know that is completely unacceptable, don't you? George, each one of us deserves to have privacy in the bathroom! How would you feel if someone crawled over the wall and looked at you?" George looked very innocent and said, "Well, Rafi and Jan told me to do it!"
This response is one of my favorites because it is so transparent. George claimed he was manipulated by his two non-present friends. In a way, I was surprised he didn't try to cover up his behavior. Having spent a year in my classroom he should know what was coming next: "George, were Rafi and Jan in the bathroom with you?" "No, but they told me.. it would be fun!" "George, do you have control over what your body does?" "Um, yes..." "Well, you made the decision to crawl over the wall, and no one was telling you to do it. You control yourself and you made the decision to crawl and look. Then you turned the lights in the bathroom off. You need to apologize to Jimmy." "I'm sorry, Jimmy." "You should tell Jimmy that you won't do this again. It was very scary for him." George had the grace to look slightly downcast. "I'm sorry, Jimmy." "It's okay." As we return to the classroom I said to Jimmy, "You know, I think George feels bad he did this. If anything like this happens again, please tell me or another adult as soon as it happens. It's important that you feel safe when you go to the bathroom."
This story or something similar plays itself out several times a year. Sometimes I hear about it, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I hear about it later from another teacher or a parent. The bathroom is a place where first graders (and second graders as well) get to be independent. They get to leave the classroom and walk to the bathroom on their own; once they get to the bathroom they are effectively on their own without adult supervision for the first times in their lives. We have no male adult teachers during the school day in the K-2 cluster, so the boys' room is even more separate than the girls' room where an occasional female teacher will wander in. If there is an emergency which requires an adult male I must scout one from the second floor or go in search of a custodian, who may or may not be working on the downstairs floor. I mention this because it means that least there must be a pretty high degree of trust that things will go well and the students will behave responsibly on their way to and inside the bathrooms.
That Friday night my mother-in-law laughed whole-heartedly at the stories of six year olds making sense of their independence. She appreciated the time it took for me (or any teacher) to work through Jimmy's predicament and the community's need to ensure bathroom safety. She understood well that George needed to admit his culpability and apologize for his bad behavior in the bathroom. We laughed about how people thought teachers spent their days teaching... as in reading, writing, math, and science. She swore she couldn't imagine how teachers found the time to teach anything when they had to spend their days dealing with issues like teaching individual responsibility, preventing teasing, bullying, and issues of physical and emotional safety. By letting me tell my school stories, Mom helped me to make sense of what happened during my school day; telling my bathroom stories gave me the opportunity to understand and identify the reasons all of us did what we did, and sometimes her questions helped me think about how I could have done things differently, for the next time around.
When I left Mom on Friday night I promised I'd see her back at her house the next day. We laughed about her nurse's hairdo ("very utilitarian - frightful!") and I gave her a quick kiss and a hug, not even considering for a moment that it would be the last time we'd confide in each other, laugh and tell stories together.
The next morning she suffered a massive brain hemorrhage and never awoke, passing away quietly in her sleep on Sunday morning.
So why speak of her at a blog dedicated to talking about teaching? Well, I want to write about her! But I'll try and connect the dots because I think she gave me so much material to make sense of. It may take a while to truly comprehend how much influence Mom actually had upon me, which was considerable.
Let me start at the events which immediately precipitated her entering the hospital.
A week ago Thursday on my way to a get-together with the Mavens, a group of (some retired and some not yet) educators from my school who meet for a monthly dinner, my husband called and informed me that his mother had gone to the local hospital earlier that evening. She had apparently taken a fall upon returning from her great-niece's birthday party that afternoon. Her niece had been with her, and although she had gotten up and walked away from the fall, the niece was concerned that she had been disoriented and needed to be checked by a doctor. My mother-in-law remained in the emergency room, where she was waiting test results. Since my husband was an hour and a half away, it fell to me to check in upon her when her niece left.
I arrived in the emergency room to discover my mother-in-law nauseous and bruised, but cautiously optimistic that she would be home the next day. She proceeded to outline the day's events and regale me with stories of her great niece's elaborate 12th birthday party which had taken place in various stages: a luncheon (she expressed amazement at the sophisticated palettes of the 12 year-old guests: they ordered "just like adults" she mused), a stop at a store/spa where the guests entered a backroom and had their make-up done, and nails painted ("so grown-up, so indulgent!") and a final treat from her niece -- each guest was allowed to pick out a piece of jewelry from the store. My mother-in-law thought this was all very exciting for her young great-niece. She wasn't convinced it was necessary - or even advisable -- ("Whatever happened to a party given at your parent's house, with cake and ice-cream and favors?" "Wouldn't a sleep-over have been just as much fun?") but, at eighty-six, she was pleased to be included in the merriment.
We spoke about the day's events and what the doctors planned for her the next day: tests and more tests -- they had given her a clean bill of health from the fall -- nothing on the catscan, no broken bones; however, they had detected an arrhythmia and wanted to see if her very fast beating heart would "right itself" during the night. In the meantime, she was given fluids and a drug to assist in slowing down her racing heart.
Assured that she was in good hands that night, I went home with the promise that I would check in on her the next day, either at home or in the hospital.
Mom remained in the hospital all day Friday. Her rapidly beating heart simply wouldn't slow down. The doctor planned on giving her coumadin, a drug which thins the blood. Apparently the continuing arrhythmia meant the possibility (although low, only a purported 5%)of a stroke risk. When I saw my mother-in-law Friday night after work, she was sitting in a large comfortable chair in an I.C.U. The hospital claimed there were no beds in the Intermediate Care Unit, and the I.C.U. was virtually empty so Mom was pretty much guaranteed a lot of high quality care. I arrived at 6:00 and we spent the next three hours gossiping about children and grandchildren. My sister-in-law and her cousin had all visited earlier in the day, and there was always much to discuss. My husband called during the visit and Mom dismissed my husband saying, "Let me off the phone -- I want to talk to your wife." My husband later ruefully noted that these were his mother's final words to him.
I thought my mother-in-law seemed a little downhearted and with good reason. She had spent the day cooped up in a room full of medicinal bells and whistles, stuck (literally) to an I.V. with the impending threat of continuing needle sticks and ongoing need for blood-thinners. Her heart continued to run amok, and Mom's willing it to slow down was not doing the trick. So after a slight diversion by a Celtic-cross-tatooed red-headed phlebotomist who flirted unabashedly with my mother-in-law, and, I suspect, every other woman whom he encounters, I decided to veer the conversation towards my first graders and their bathroom woes. In retrospect, I find my decision to share 1st grade bathroom stories a little odd. Perhaps I just wanted to lighten things up a bit. Maybe I just wanted to shift the stage radically from hospital to school. Anyway, it's what we talked about that night.
First graders in our building are confronted with a very long walk to the bathroom. In Kindergarten the bathrooms are, in two out of three classes, adjoined to the room. The walk is short. If there is an emergency, it only takes two or three steps to get to the required space. For first graders, the walk is daunting. Our three first grade classrooms are down a long corridor, a big turn and then halfway down another hallway. Emergencies are truly emergencies. At the beginning of the year, we spend time practicing walking through the hallways, acclimating ourselves to where everything is, where to go when you need the nurse, when you need a drink, how long it takes to get to different places, etc. We talk about what bathrooms are for; bathrooms are not places to have parties and you don't want to spend a lot of time there, you should "do your business" carefully and quickly, wash your hands and then, get back to the classroom as quickly as possible. Sometimes the lure of the long walk can be a good way to take a break and some students take advantage of it. I try to encourage the shortest break possible by telling the student making the bathroom request, "I'm counting how long you will be gone!" " I really need for you to return as quickly as possible." "Let's not waste time!" For the most part, students are responsive to these cues and return quickly.
Almost every week there is a bathroom story. Some are more interesting than others, and some are funnier than others. Sometimes I find my student's bathroom habits amusing and other times they can be annoying. They always reflect common six-year old behaviors and you just have to roll with the punches, so to speak. On Friday last, I told Mom a typical first grade bathroom stories that happened earlier this fall.
A male student who likes to take a bathroom break returned to the classroom from the boys' room with a look of horror on his face. "Mrs. D, when I was in the bathroom a second grader (always a culprit) crawled over the wall and looked at me when I was naked! I told him to go away - then he turned out the light!" There's nothing more frightening in our first floor boys' room than turning out the light, because our boys' and girls' rooms are completely without natural light - they're very dark.
"Do you know who it was?" I asked. "He was wearing an orange-striped shirt." I informed my student teacher where I was going, Jimmy and I excused ourselves and headed for the second grade classroom. Once there we quickly spotted the striped-shirt boy who was in my classroom the previous year and I told his teacher the scenario and problem. She agreed to send the perpetrator into the hall for an interview. The three of us stood outside the second grade classroom door. George knew the jig was up; he looked at his feet and couldn't look me in the eye. I opened the conversation with, "George, did you crawl over the bathroom stall wall and look at Jimmy?" "I did," he nodded quickly. He didn't try to conceal his perfidy. "You know that is completely unacceptable, don't you? George, each one of us deserves to have privacy in the bathroom! How would you feel if someone crawled over the wall and looked at you?" George looked very innocent and said, "Well, Rafi and Jan told me to do it!"
This response is one of my favorites because it is so transparent. George claimed he was manipulated by his two non-present friends. In a way, I was surprised he didn't try to cover up his behavior. Having spent a year in my classroom he should know what was coming next: "George, were Rafi and Jan in the bathroom with you?" "No, but they told me.. it would be fun!" "George, do you have control over what your body does?" "Um, yes..." "Well, you made the decision to crawl over the wall, and no one was telling you to do it. You control yourself and you made the decision to crawl and look. Then you turned the lights in the bathroom off. You need to apologize to Jimmy." "I'm sorry, Jimmy." "You should tell Jimmy that you won't do this again. It was very scary for him." George had the grace to look slightly downcast. "I'm sorry, Jimmy." "It's okay." As we return to the classroom I said to Jimmy, "You know, I think George feels bad he did this. If anything like this happens again, please tell me or another adult as soon as it happens. It's important that you feel safe when you go to the bathroom."
This story or something similar plays itself out several times a year. Sometimes I hear about it, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I hear about it later from another teacher or a parent. The bathroom is a place where first graders (and second graders as well) get to be independent. They get to leave the classroom and walk to the bathroom on their own; once they get to the bathroom they are effectively on their own without adult supervision for the first times in their lives. We have no male adult teachers during the school day in the K-2 cluster, so the boys' room is even more separate than the girls' room where an occasional female teacher will wander in. If there is an emergency which requires an adult male I must scout one from the second floor or go in search of a custodian, who may or may not be working on the downstairs floor. I mention this because it means that least there must be a pretty high degree of trust that things will go well and the students will behave responsibly on their way to and inside the bathrooms.
That Friday night my mother-in-law laughed whole-heartedly at the stories of six year olds making sense of their independence. She appreciated the time it took for me (or any teacher) to work through Jimmy's predicament and the community's need to ensure bathroom safety. She understood well that George needed to admit his culpability and apologize for his bad behavior in the bathroom. We laughed about how people thought teachers spent their days teaching... as in reading, writing, math, and science. She swore she couldn't imagine how teachers found the time to teach anything when they had to spend their days dealing with issues like teaching individual responsibility, preventing teasing, bullying, and issues of physical and emotional safety. By letting me tell my school stories, Mom helped me to make sense of what happened during my school day; telling my bathroom stories gave me the opportunity to understand and identify the reasons all of us did what we did, and sometimes her questions helped me think about how I could have done things differently, for the next time around.
When I left Mom on Friday night I promised I'd see her back at her house the next day. We laughed about her nurse's hairdo ("very utilitarian - frightful!") and I gave her a quick kiss and a hug, not even considering for a moment that it would be the last time we'd confide in each other, laugh and tell stories together.
The next morning she suffered a massive brain hemorrhage and never awoke, passing away quietly in her sleep on Sunday morning.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Teaching As Learning
Last week for the first time this year right in the middle of a math lesson one of our class's most dedicated students came up to me and said, "I don't get it. I don't know how to do this." Then another capable student approached me and said the same thing. My heart sank. No teacher wants to hear those four fateful words, because it's a code for every teacher's most dreaded thought: I didn't do a very good job teaching this lesson.
It was at the end of the day and I immediately had the children pack up their math books and told them we would go back and try it again the next day. Upon looking closely at the work the students had completed, it was clearer than ever that indeed, they really didn't get it. Even the children working independently had gone off the track.
I went home that night with my head swimming over the day's lesson. What had gone wrong? We had worked for a long time on a thinking out loud problem called a "headline story". I posed an open-ended word problem on the board and the students can fill in the blanks in any number of ways. The students had offered a number of solutions and had been eagerly engaged in the problem. Everyone wanted to offer a solution. In the next activity we worked on making number sentences with our hands, in some cases using three hands to make numbers larger than ten. Everybody was working and learning -- until we returned to our desks to complete the lesson's workbook pages. It was at this point that my student brought me to reality with her lack of "getting it." I hadn't spent enough time making the connection between counting our five fingers and counting by fives.
For the next few days we have been counting by fives, looking at multiples of five using nickels and adding on from five with a vengeance. Having a lesson blow up in your face is one of the quickest ways to examine -- and alter -- your teaching practice. In this case, it made me deeply aware of how important it is to take the time to connect one simple activity (working with five fingers on two hands) with the larger concept (skip counting by fives). Having a student tell me he or she doesn't get it is tantamount to throwing down the glove -- it's an ultimatum I'm not going to ignore. but I also recognize that something else was at work: I'd never taught money using this math book before. I needed the day's slightly painful events to make me aware of how the activities in our new math curriculum fit together. It was one of those "teachable moments" -- only the one being taught was....me!
For the past three years, prompted by parents unhappy with our district's spotty performance on state assessments, a perceived lack of rigor in our town's elementary math curriculum, increased awareness of the national conversation about diametrically opposed styles of math teaching (see "Math Wars") a district-wide Math Performance Review Team met with teachers, parents and administrators over many months. I joined one focus group convened over two years ago (maybe it was three years?). As part of a group of elementary teachers I spent an afternoon discussing our likes and dislikes about the present math curriculum. We listed things we would change if we could. We voiced frustration about gaps in the "core curriculum" that provided a skeletal framework of activities you would teach throughout the year. We noted that if wanted be true to the town learning expectations and the state frameworks, we would have to purchase, beg, borrow and photocopy from as many as ten other books in order to meet these two sometimes differing standards.
For example, in 2005 the town math curriculum contained no unit on money in either the first or the second grade, so teaching money (usually pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters) meant hunting down and deciding which worksheet to use after an activity or game played during class. Over the years my colleagues and I became quite comfortable teaching about money: we refined a number of activities and worksheets that we adapted to various grade levels. We shared materials, workbooks and ideas. The downside of the lack of materials was that our work felt very "random" and of course there was the issue of equity in classrooms throughout the system. It was clear that this lack of district uniformity had become increasingly untenable.
So the good news is, our town made a decision sometime in the past year to purchase a new K-5 math curricula. Pilot teachers were limited to various grade levels -- this year those teachers compose the advanced class. Their one year of working with the new textbooks and curricula provided them with one extra year of teaching with materials that us newbies didn't have. They are the experts in this endeavor right now, although I'm sure they might dispute the label!
Very few teachers will read the directions to a lesson and not change some aspect of the instructions, whether it's changing the unit by adding vocabulary, altering the lesson's pacing, replacing one activity with another, etc. Teachers treasure their independence and value the ability to make spot judgments based on the group of students in front of them. I'm constantly assessing the level of my students' engagement while I'm teaching -- how many students begin to detach from the group and begin rolling around on the floor? While I'm teaching, I'm thinking, "Are they still with me? How many are listening with their eyes and raising their hands eagerly?" I try to gauge their engagement (or lack thereof) in observable terms. If things are going too slowly, even the most engaged learner will start to fidget. If the lesson moves too quickly, or I haven't spent enough time on a critical piece, the lesson will fall flat on its head. I can see it in my students' bodies!
When teaching 1st graders you can also assess whether the students understand what they are doing by how quickly and happily they get to work - on whatever they do. Noise levels are also a major indicator of how well students are absorbing material. If there is a high degree of chatter, it may be because the students are less than excited about what they are doing. They'll talk about anything rather than work on something they don't understand -- not too different from most adults! That's why I knew immediately what the problem was when my student said, "I don't get it!" When I hear those words, I know it's time to go back to the drawing board -- and reteach the lesson. As a teacher of young children, (actually this was true for my 5th and 6th graders as well) you have to be thinking all the time about what successful learning looks like. Any new curriculum worth its salt takes the teacher's need to make independent judgments into account. If it's not working, I'm going to change it!
That need for decision-making independence must be balanced with accountability, and all new curricula published today are keyed to state standards (Massachusetts curriculum frameworks). In our district the curriculum chosen by the town ("ThinkMath!)is more than explicit about what standards are being taught in every lesson. I'm pretty excited about what we're doing in math right now -- we're working on a unit on pennies and nickels -- yes, it IS included in this curricula -- and the students are really enjoying the various activities which range from trading pennies for nickels in games, making change, counting on, skip counting by fives. We'll take up dimes and quarters later in the year, using some of the same methods and games. I like how the curriculum circles back to the same activities at different points in the year, using larger denominations. It gives me and my students a sense of familiarity and confidence.
So back to the original reason for starting this blog -- thinking and reflecting on teaching. Doing something for the first time is always challenging, even for an old-timer like me. Especially for an old-timer like me! Teaching something for the first time feels like the proverbial ground is shifting underneath you. Although I've taught several grades over the course of 20 years, this is my third year of teaching first grade and in many ways, I consider myself a novice teaching young children, since 13 of my 20 years were teaching 5th and 6th graders. There's no doubt about my being a novice teaching this new math curriculum. In sorting out how to approach so much new information and so many ways to present material it really helps to reflect on what makes good teaching, whether teaching the material for the first or the fifteenth (or even more!) time. And most importantly, undertaking a new teaching challenge reminds me of my imperfections, makes me work hard at what I do, and reflect upon what's working well, and what I need to do better every day.
It was at the end of the day and I immediately had the children pack up their math books and told them we would go back and try it again the next day. Upon looking closely at the work the students had completed, it was clearer than ever that indeed, they really didn't get it. Even the children working independently had gone off the track.
I went home that night with my head swimming over the day's lesson. What had gone wrong? We had worked for a long time on a thinking out loud problem called a "headline story". I posed an open-ended word problem on the board and the students can fill in the blanks in any number of ways. The students had offered a number of solutions and had been eagerly engaged in the problem. Everyone wanted to offer a solution. In the next activity we worked on making number sentences with our hands, in some cases using three hands to make numbers larger than ten. Everybody was working and learning -- until we returned to our desks to complete the lesson's workbook pages. It was at this point that my student brought me to reality with her lack of "getting it." I hadn't spent enough time making the connection between counting our five fingers and counting by fives.
For the next few days we have been counting by fives, looking at multiples of five using nickels and adding on from five with a vengeance. Having a lesson blow up in your face is one of the quickest ways to examine -- and alter -- your teaching practice. In this case, it made me deeply aware of how important it is to take the time to connect one simple activity (working with five fingers on two hands) with the larger concept (skip counting by fives). Having a student tell me he or she doesn't get it is tantamount to throwing down the glove -- it's an ultimatum I'm not going to ignore. but I also recognize that something else was at work: I'd never taught money using this math book before. I needed the day's slightly painful events to make me aware of how the activities in our new math curriculum fit together. It was one of those "teachable moments" -- only the one being taught was....me!
For the past three years, prompted by parents unhappy with our district's spotty performance on state assessments, a perceived lack of rigor in our town's elementary math curriculum, increased awareness of the national conversation about diametrically opposed styles of math teaching (see "Math Wars") a district-wide Math Performance Review Team met with teachers, parents and administrators over many months. I joined one focus group convened over two years ago (maybe it was three years?). As part of a group of elementary teachers I spent an afternoon discussing our likes and dislikes about the present math curriculum. We listed things we would change if we could. We voiced frustration about gaps in the "core curriculum" that provided a skeletal framework of activities you would teach throughout the year. We noted that if wanted be true to the town learning expectations and the state frameworks, we would have to purchase, beg, borrow and photocopy from as many as ten other books in order to meet these two sometimes differing standards.
For example, in 2005 the town math curriculum contained no unit on money in either the first or the second grade, so teaching money (usually pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters) meant hunting down and deciding which worksheet to use after an activity or game played during class. Over the years my colleagues and I became quite comfortable teaching about money: we refined a number of activities and worksheets that we adapted to various grade levels. We shared materials, workbooks and ideas. The downside of the lack of materials was that our work felt very "random" and of course there was the issue of equity in classrooms throughout the system. It was clear that this lack of district uniformity had become increasingly untenable.
So the good news is, our town made a decision sometime in the past year to purchase a new K-5 math curricula. Pilot teachers were limited to various grade levels -- this year those teachers compose the advanced class. Their one year of working with the new textbooks and curricula provided them with one extra year of teaching with materials that us newbies didn't have. They are the experts in this endeavor right now, although I'm sure they might dispute the label!
Very few teachers will read the directions to a lesson and not change some aspect of the instructions, whether it's changing the unit by adding vocabulary, altering the lesson's pacing, replacing one activity with another, etc. Teachers treasure their independence and value the ability to make spot judgments based on the group of students in front of them. I'm constantly assessing the level of my students' engagement while I'm teaching -- how many students begin to detach from the group and begin rolling around on the floor? While I'm teaching, I'm thinking, "Are they still with me? How many are listening with their eyes and raising their hands eagerly?" I try to gauge their engagement (or lack thereof) in observable terms. If things are going too slowly, even the most engaged learner will start to fidget. If the lesson moves too quickly, or I haven't spent enough time on a critical piece, the lesson will fall flat on its head. I can see it in my students' bodies!
When teaching 1st graders you can also assess whether the students understand what they are doing by how quickly and happily they get to work - on whatever they do. Noise levels are also a major indicator of how well students are absorbing material. If there is a high degree of chatter, it may be because the students are less than excited about what they are doing. They'll talk about anything rather than work on something they don't understand -- not too different from most adults! That's why I knew immediately what the problem was when my student said, "I don't get it!" When I hear those words, I know it's time to go back to the drawing board -- and reteach the lesson. As a teacher of young children, (actually this was true for my 5th and 6th graders as well) you have to be thinking all the time about what successful learning looks like. Any new curriculum worth its salt takes the teacher's need to make independent judgments into account. If it's not working, I'm going to change it!
That need for decision-making independence must be balanced with accountability, and all new curricula published today are keyed to state standards (Massachusetts curriculum frameworks). In our district the curriculum chosen by the town ("ThinkMath!)is more than explicit about what standards are being taught in every lesson. I'm pretty excited about what we're doing in math right now -- we're working on a unit on pennies and nickels -- yes, it IS included in this curricula -- and the students are really enjoying the various activities which range from trading pennies for nickels in games, making change, counting on, skip counting by fives. We'll take up dimes and quarters later in the year, using some of the same methods and games. I like how the curriculum circles back to the same activities at different points in the year, using larger denominations. It gives me and my students a sense of familiarity and confidence.
So back to the original reason for starting this blog -- thinking and reflecting on teaching. Doing something for the first time is always challenging, even for an old-timer like me. Especially for an old-timer like me! Teaching something for the first time feels like the proverbial ground is shifting underneath you. Although I've taught several grades over the course of 20 years, this is my third year of teaching first grade and in many ways, I consider myself a novice teaching young children, since 13 of my 20 years were teaching 5th and 6th graders. There's no doubt about my being a novice teaching this new math curriculum. In sorting out how to approach so much new information and so many ways to present material it really helps to reflect on what makes good teaching, whether teaching the material for the first or the fifteenth (or even more!) time. And most importantly, undertaking a new teaching challenge reminds me of my imperfections, makes me work hard at what I do, and reflect upon what's working well, and what I need to do better every day.
Monday, October 20, 2008
In Praise of Student Teachers
I'm home sick today with a raspy cough, woozy headache and achy body. I called in sick this morning at 6:00 a.m. and left word that I needed a sub. This means that a person who has never met my class will arrive at the door a few minutes before 8:00 a.m. and need to be brought up to speed as quickly as possible by my student teacher. She is in the (somewhat) awkward position of directing someone (who may be 15-20 years her senior) who is paid to orchestrate the day in spite of the fact that my student teacher is the one who is going to keep things together. As a graduate student she will not get paid for keeping it together. We chalk it up to a "learning experience," and hope that things will go well.
When you're as sick as I was this morning, you don't really want to get up at 6:00 a.m. and write a "to-do" list, so I felt very grateful that my student teacher and I had planned the next week last Friday before leaving school. Since she had planned the day and knew our routines for Monday, it wouldn't be a big deal for her to plow through the activities we'd planned together. It was also a blessing that I'd stayed late to copy a good part of Monday and Tuesday's work, even though I could feel myself deteriorating even then. At least she wouldn't have to run around early in the morning trying to figure out what to copy. When I spoke to my student teacher mid-morning, she had things well in hand, calmly assured me all was well, and told me in a nutshell, to "go back to bed and get some rest!"
This is all to say that for the past fifteen years I have been blessed with a myriad of student teachers, interns, one-day-a-week pre-practicum students and observers from a host of academic institutions in the greater Boston area. These novice educators have ranged in age from 22 to 45, mostly single but occasionally married, some beginning second (or third) careers and completing their master's in education, and some in their junior or senior years in college. One year when changing grades I refused a pre-practicum student, thinking that it was enough that it was my first year teaching first grade, and I needed to spend my time learning a new curriculum. That was the same year my class had a large sub-group of English-Language-Learners who needed a very strong dose of extra literacy. Tearing out my hair didn't produce any results, but by chance I mentioned the need for extra support for these ELL-ers to one of our special educators, who just happened to have a graduate student who needed to do extra hours with lower elementary students! Voila!
That particular grad student willingly volunteered two-three hours per day for the year -- until April when she found a job as a permanent sub. A runner and former athletic coach, she was committed to having students use their bodies to help them learn all kinds of basic skills, ergo she developed a number of games using movement, throw and catch, even the old parlor game "Twister" to make her phonics and literacy lessons engaging for the students. She purchased software targeting the skills where my ELL-ers needed support. During rainy day recesses she organized relay races. It got to the point that when she appeared at the door all the students would BEG to be picked to work with her. We had to explain that she was practicing with the ELL-ers, but they still begged. We finally gave in and let the ELL students pick a friend to accompany them, for at least a part of the lessons. When she left for her new official teaching position, we all felt the loss of her enthusiasm, expertise and passion; I felt the loss of companionship and inspiration.
One year I had a student teacher with little experience with 6 and 7-year olds -- she was enrolled in an Early Childhood Certification Program and she really wanted to work with 3 years olds. Her previous teaching experiences had been in pre-schools and pre-K camps. I remember we spent a lot of time working on management, how to speak to 1st graders, how to wait until she had their attention before giving directions. Her supervisor and I worried that she might need more time in the classroom, but somehow in the middle of the semester, she morphed, butterfly-like, into a strong speaker, someone who took charge! She loved developing curriculum and constructed a wonderful unit centered on medieval castles and castle life. We sent home a letter asking for paper goods -- I remember being unnerved by the deluge of materials brought in from home. We stockpiled barrelfuls of paper rolls, flattened cardboard , egg cartons and oatmeal boxes. I will never forget how excited the class was when we gave them time to use their imaginations and build drawbridges, trebuchets, turrets, walls, and staircases. There was an occasional squabble over materials and methods; in fact, the three days we spent building were messy and one could even say, chaotic. What quickly became clear was how each excited and highly motivated each child was by building. What also became clear is how much I had underestimated what this particular young teacher had to teach me about how to engage young learners.
Having a student teacher is a bit like a temporary arranged marriage --both sides get to "vet" the other, and if the two parties don't agree, either one can say no. The courtship begins when the educational institution sends a potential candidate to meet you (the supervising teacher) the semester before she is scheduled to begin her requisite teaching. At that meeting she will have an opportunity to look over your classroom, question you about your philosophy, see you in action and "get the lay of the land" where she'll be working for the fourteen weeks of her student teaching. During this meeting the supervising teacher gets to observe how the candidate interacts with the students, whether she is able to communicate with them, how easily she moves around classroom, what kinds of interactions she makes, notes the kinds of questions she asks (what's important to her?) and how comfortable the two parties are with each other.
I've come to believe that sometimes the magic of the student teacher/supervising teacher is just plain luck. Several years ago a local college sent a candidate beginning her second career to interview with several teachers in our building. There were opportunities in at least five classrooms, but somehow after all the interviews were over, the two of us had both selected each other.
From the beginning, this candidate was unusual. Eager, enthusiastic, excited about learning, with a great sense of humor she related easily to the students. Her previous work experience gave her a sense of purposefulness. She managed to engage students with her easy smile and her unshakable patience. I remember one day, while looking over student drawings of eyeballs (Optics was a part of the 5th grade curriculum), we came upon a picture of an eyeball that had red lines emanating from the center. It's impossible to describe now, and there's no way I can do the moment justice. All I can say is that when the two of us looked at a student's drawing of two bloodshot eyes, we dissolved into laughter that lasted for several minutes. We could not stop laughing. Twelve years later I still smile about that moment and cannot recall having had so much fun with another teacher. I remember thanking my lucky stars that she had somehow managed to land in my room.
The student/supervising teacher courtship arrangement usually works. Both sides know the liaison is temporary, lasting only fourteen weeks. There is quite a bit of pressure for the student teacher to get "up to speed" quickly in such a short time frame, and there is a need for the supervising teacher to willingly open her doors and unlock the teaching experience in a short time. The September -December practicum is valuable in that the student teacher sees the development of the class from its beginnings: how to set up the environment, how to lay out the routines, how to manage the classroom, and of course, discovery of who the students are as learners. Round Two, which begins in late January and continues through early May, may be challenging for both supervising teacher and student. The supervising teacher needs to reconstruct the history of the previous four months in order to figure out how to be in the classroom. I need to provide the backstory so that the newcomer can fully appreciate what we've learned and why we do things that we do. The best kind of arrangement is an internship which lasts from September through June for both parties; however, we have far fewer applicants for internships these days.
So this is my paean to student teachers, the most underrated and undervalued members of the education community. I have been the beneficiary of the process of their education,nudging and guiding, watching them grow, working alongside them, observing them as they take risks and take on the responsibility of teaching. Having these young teachers in my classroom has been a gift to me in my own teaching: I've learned to observe through their eyes what technique works with what kind of learner, who needs a special kind of teaching, who needs to take a break, who needs close monitoring, who needs a firm or a gentle hand. My students have benefited as a result of their teaching; even, - no maybe especially - when things didn't look neat and tidy, we were all learning.
When you're as sick as I was this morning, you don't really want to get up at 6:00 a.m. and write a "to-do" list, so I felt very grateful that my student teacher and I had planned the next week last Friday before leaving school. Since she had planned the day and knew our routines for Monday, it wouldn't be a big deal for her to plow through the activities we'd planned together. It was also a blessing that I'd stayed late to copy a good part of Monday and Tuesday's work, even though I could feel myself deteriorating even then. At least she wouldn't have to run around early in the morning trying to figure out what to copy. When I spoke to my student teacher mid-morning, she had things well in hand, calmly assured me all was well, and told me in a nutshell, to "go back to bed and get some rest!"
This is all to say that for the past fifteen years I have been blessed with a myriad of student teachers, interns, one-day-a-week pre-practicum students and observers from a host of academic institutions in the greater Boston area. These novice educators have ranged in age from 22 to 45, mostly single but occasionally married, some beginning second (or third) careers and completing their master's in education, and some in their junior or senior years in college. One year when changing grades I refused a pre-practicum student, thinking that it was enough that it was my first year teaching first grade, and I needed to spend my time learning a new curriculum. That was the same year my class had a large sub-group of English-Language-Learners who needed a very strong dose of extra literacy. Tearing out my hair didn't produce any results, but by chance I mentioned the need for extra support for these ELL-ers to one of our special educators, who just happened to have a graduate student who needed to do extra hours with lower elementary students! Voila!
That particular grad student willingly volunteered two-three hours per day for the year -- until April when she found a job as a permanent sub. A runner and former athletic coach, she was committed to having students use their bodies to help them learn all kinds of basic skills, ergo she developed a number of games using movement, throw and catch, even the old parlor game "Twister" to make her phonics and literacy lessons engaging for the students. She purchased software targeting the skills where my ELL-ers needed support. During rainy day recesses she organized relay races. It got to the point that when she appeared at the door all the students would BEG to be picked to work with her. We had to explain that she was practicing with the ELL-ers, but they still begged. We finally gave in and let the ELL students pick a friend to accompany them, for at least a part of the lessons. When she left for her new official teaching position, we all felt the loss of her enthusiasm, expertise and passion; I felt the loss of companionship and inspiration.
One year I had a student teacher with little experience with 6 and 7-year olds -- she was enrolled in an Early Childhood Certification Program and she really wanted to work with 3 years olds. Her previous teaching experiences had been in pre-schools and pre-K camps. I remember we spent a lot of time working on management, how to speak to 1st graders, how to wait until she had their attention before giving directions. Her supervisor and I worried that she might need more time in the classroom, but somehow in the middle of the semester, she morphed, butterfly-like, into a strong speaker, someone who took charge! She loved developing curriculum and constructed a wonderful unit centered on medieval castles and castle life. We sent home a letter asking for paper goods -- I remember being unnerved by the deluge of materials brought in from home. We stockpiled barrelfuls of paper rolls, flattened cardboard , egg cartons and oatmeal boxes. I will never forget how excited the class was when we gave them time to use their imaginations and build drawbridges, trebuchets, turrets, walls, and staircases. There was an occasional squabble over materials and methods; in fact, the three days we spent building were messy and one could even say, chaotic. What quickly became clear was how each excited and highly motivated each child was by building. What also became clear is how much I had underestimated what this particular young teacher had to teach me about how to engage young learners.
Having a student teacher is a bit like a temporary arranged marriage --both sides get to "vet" the other, and if the two parties don't agree, either one can say no. The courtship begins when the educational institution sends a potential candidate to meet you (the supervising teacher) the semester before she is scheduled to begin her requisite teaching. At that meeting she will have an opportunity to look over your classroom, question you about your philosophy, see you in action and "get the lay of the land" where she'll be working for the fourteen weeks of her student teaching. During this meeting the supervising teacher gets to observe how the candidate interacts with the students, whether she is able to communicate with them, how easily she moves around classroom, what kinds of interactions she makes, notes the kinds of questions she asks (what's important to her?) and how comfortable the two parties are with each other.
I've come to believe that sometimes the magic of the student teacher/supervising teacher is just plain luck. Several years ago a local college sent a candidate beginning her second career to interview with several teachers in our building. There were opportunities in at least five classrooms, but somehow after all the interviews were over, the two of us had both selected each other.
From the beginning, this candidate was unusual. Eager, enthusiastic, excited about learning, with a great sense of humor she related easily to the students. Her previous work experience gave her a sense of purposefulness. She managed to engage students with her easy smile and her unshakable patience. I remember one day, while looking over student drawings of eyeballs (Optics was a part of the 5th grade curriculum), we came upon a picture of an eyeball that had red lines emanating from the center. It's impossible to describe now, and there's no way I can do the moment justice. All I can say is that when the two of us looked at a student's drawing of two bloodshot eyes, we dissolved into laughter that lasted for several minutes. We could not stop laughing. Twelve years later I still smile about that moment and cannot recall having had so much fun with another teacher. I remember thanking my lucky stars that she had somehow managed to land in my room.
The student/supervising teacher courtship arrangement usually works. Both sides know the liaison is temporary, lasting only fourteen weeks. There is quite a bit of pressure for the student teacher to get "up to speed" quickly in such a short time frame, and there is a need for the supervising teacher to willingly open her doors and unlock the teaching experience in a short time. The September -December practicum is valuable in that the student teacher sees the development of the class from its beginnings: how to set up the environment, how to lay out the routines, how to manage the classroom, and of course, discovery of who the students are as learners. Round Two, which begins in late January and continues through early May, may be challenging for both supervising teacher and student. The supervising teacher needs to reconstruct the history of the previous four months in order to figure out how to be in the classroom. I need to provide the backstory so that the newcomer can fully appreciate what we've learned and why we do things that we do. The best kind of arrangement is an internship which lasts from September through June for both parties; however, we have far fewer applicants for internships these days.
So this is my paean to student teachers, the most underrated and undervalued members of the education community. I have been the beneficiary of the process of their education,nudging and guiding, watching them grow, working alongside them, observing them as they take risks and take on the responsibility of teaching. Having these young teachers in my classroom has been a gift to me in my own teaching: I've learned to observe through their eyes what technique works with what kind of learner, who needs a special kind of teaching, who needs to take a break, who needs close monitoring, who needs a firm or a gentle hand. My students have benefited as a result of their teaching; even, - no maybe especially - when things didn't look neat and tidy, we were all learning.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Setting the Ground Rules
(This post was originally created 9/20/08 as part of a parent newsletter and is just being posted as a blog entry to 1DDiaries today)
Today was our 15th day of school, which means the school year is about 8% completed. During these past fifteen days, we have accomplished a lot!
Many of the accomplishments can be counted -- we've completed one math unit on shape attributes and patterns, and are well into a second unit on number lines. In Science we've begun to observe the tree outside of our window and use a hand lens to give us a better opportunity to observe the amazing world around us, and then document our observations in a journal.
We have read fiction books where mice were the main characters (authors
However, many of our accomplishments are harder to document. We have had discussions about how friends support each other's learning through attentive listening and celebrate each other's successes. We spoke today about how each week we give awards at our weekly assembly. Each week I give an award to a student who has made an exemplary improvement, acquired a new skill, made an insightful contribution to a classroom discussion or done something that I really want to point out to the whole community. My students need to know that each child in the class will receive an award sometime during the year. Receiving the award should be a surprise to him/her, although I try to let parents know in advance so that they may plan to attend the Assembly if their schedules permit. It’s important for my students to know I notice when they work very hard. They ARE working hard – ofcourse we all have days when we work with a little less enthusiasm! – and have completed some really good work during the week. It is crucial for me to provide the motivation for all my students to WANT to learn, to work hard and have the desire to be excellent and extraordinary students even if they are NOT going to get an award on that week!
We have had more than one discussion about what it feels like when a classmate acts in a negative way: sometimes a person doesn't have to say anything to make another person feel anxious or worried. Will she hurt me or won't she hurt me? Sometimes a student makes a mean face or gesture in response to another's words. Sometimes body language alone can make another child feel worried that he or she is going to be get hurt. Students generally will tell me when they are worried or anxious or just feeling bad about an interaction on the playground or the cafeteria. Sometimes we can have general, whole-class conversations about these incidents, and but occasionally it is necessary to sit down with the children involved and talk through what each child’s perceptions of the situation are. It’s important for each child to feel safe as well as having their voices heard.
More often students get upset with a friend for angry words and then reverse course, forgiving and forgetting what the accuser did within minutes! There are also times when the students need to know when a gesture or words they saw or heard were not meant to be hurtful. Sometimes we have misunderstandings or a miscommunication. Frequently we have accidents and a child needs to accept responsibility. These are big words and huge ideas for six year olds to digest. We role play, and talk about how to respond when someone hurts our feelings or does things to us that we don’t like. We have to practice saying words that are hard to say: “Please stop!” “I don’t like this game. I’ll play something else.” We learn to advocate for ourselves. We talk about how sometimes we don’t mean to hurt someone. Accidents happen; however, if, through his actions or words, a child accidentally hurts someone, he needs to accept responsibility for what he did and apologize.
We have to talk about rules of the game, know and understand that everyone – EVERYONE -- must be included in our games and that no one may be left out if he or she wants to play. For some first graders, thinking about, considering and talking about how someone else feels is the hardest thing they’ve ever had to do.
First Grade, like so much of life, can get very complicated. The students in 1D are a sensitive, thoughtful and responsible group of children. They have great empathy for each other and are quickly developing into a community of learners. We are working on developing rules that will guide us in our classroom behaviors for the rest of the year. So far, we have come up with the following Rules for our Morning Meeting:
* Show Respect;
* Listen quietly without calling out to the speaker;
* Raise your hand to speak;
* Pay attention to the speaker.
Setting the “ground rules” is just one of many ways we develop community as we get the school year underway. As the year unfolds, we’ll look more closely at some of the ways we work together to build our understanding of how each person contributes and strengthens our classroom community.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
The Best Laid Plans of Aardvarks and Mice...
I've already said that everyday after lunch, we read aloud. This year I've been trying a new way to organize my read-aloud choices. I decided that every month we would choose books with a different animal focus. One colleague suggested that I begin the year using the Arthur books (author Marc Krensky) because the original Arthur was 25 years old (at least) and Arthur's Nose, the first of the series, had been re-issued in a birthday edition and there was a lot of hype this year around its re-issue. I could find several lessons to talk about how the author/illustrator had changed his vision of his character; we could research aardvarks, which start with the letter "a" -- a good way to begin the school year. I thought this was a really good idea, but -- alas, when I went to the library, the book had already been checked out, it would take time to order a new one, and I needed a book to read - stat! So I defaulted to another beginning of the year book, Kevin Henkes' Lily's Purple Plastic Purse. I love this book for several reasons: its main character, Lily, a lovely little girl mouse, adores her teacher -- she wants to be a teacher, she practices her teaching skills on her baby brother Julius, until one day, the teacher lays the law down, telling an impatient Lily she will have to wait to show off her new purple plastic purse to her classmates at a classroom sharing session. Lily, an impetuous, passionate and willful young lady, rebels by drawing a caricature of her teacher with accompanying negative labels which he discovers. Being a thoughtful and sensitive model for all educators, the teacher handles Lily's bad behavior in a productive way, gives her a chance to do the right thing and resumes his position as one of her favorite people in the world.
There are many Kevin Henkes' books where the main characters are rendered as mice: Chrysanthemum, Julius, Baby of the World, Wemberly Worried, and Owen to name a few. There are probably more, but these are a few that we read as part of read aloud this September. I really like Henkes' main characters -- they're original, spirited, and act a lot like six year olds. They get mad, have tantrums, regret their bad behavior, and usually learn a behavioral lesson and apologize in the course of the book. Henkes might have chosen a different animal to become his characters, but he chose mice. So, you guessed it, rather than using aardvarks to launch our read alouds, we began the year with a study of mice. In addition to reading the above Henkes' mice picture books, we read a lot of Leo Lionni: Alexander and the Wind-up Mouse, Matthew's Dream, Let's Play, Frederick, and The Greentail Mouse.
We also read two versions of the city mouse and the country mouse. One of my favorite moments in the month was, while reading Jan Brett's beautifully illustrated Town Mouse, Country Mouse, we came to the part where the male country mouse falls from a kitchen precipice into the paws of the slumbering house cat. At least one of my students had to turn away from the book, and shrieked, "I can't look!!!" This moment underscored for me the incredible power of reading to children at this age -- this little boy visualized a terrifying fate for the tiny husband and wife mice characters and he just couldn't face the prospect of what would happen if he looked at the book. He was very relieved and calmed down when he heard that, in this version, the two mice escape to return to their comfortable (at least to them) tree home in the country.
We made a list of facts we knew about mice, and lest you think first graders don't know anything about mice -- here's what we knew: mice have four legs, two eyes, two ears, a nose with nostrils, whiskers, gray, black or brown fur, and a long tail. Mice have tiny teeth, and they can bite you. Mice are not pets. Mice like to eat cheese, and run around the house. Mice live in holes, outside or in the house. Mice poop everywhere. Mice run fast.
In the course of the month I read snippets from books about mice and we uncovered more interesting facts: mice have 4-9 babies in a litter and an average of 17 litters in a year (!!!); baby mice are called kittens (we thought that was really interesting). A mouse's only real defense (according to one source) is its ability to run fast in a zigzag motion to escape a predator. We learned lots of animals like to eat mice -- almost all big birds, bats, owls, eagles, cats, tigers, and other big cats. Mice have amazingly sensitive hearing and can smell very well, but, on the other hand, mice can barely see. One non-fiction source said that some researchers think mice can only see one-two inches in front of them, which might account for why these little critters can wander into the clutches of my two orange tabbies and not blink an eye.
And so this September our 1st graders became mouse experts. Last week after three weeks of reading books with mouse characters and talking about mice anatomy and behavior, we went to the computer lab and drew pictures of mice, then opened a text box and wrote mouse facts on our drawings. It brought a very satisfying end to our discussions and when the students heard our drawings were going to be posted in the library with some of the books we had read -- well, we went wild! It was a very exciting culmination to the month.
Who needs aardvarks? Next month ... alligators!
There are many Kevin Henkes' books where the main characters are rendered as mice: Chrysanthemum, Julius, Baby of the World, Wemberly Worried, and Owen to name a few. There are probably more, but these are a few that we read as part of read aloud this September. I really like Henkes' main characters -- they're original, spirited, and act a lot like six year olds. They get mad, have tantrums, regret their bad behavior, and usually learn a behavioral lesson and apologize in the course of the book. Henkes might have chosen a different animal to become his characters, but he chose mice. So, you guessed it, rather than using aardvarks to launch our read alouds, we began the year with a study of mice. In addition to reading the above Henkes' mice picture books, we read a lot of Leo Lionni: Alexander and the Wind-up Mouse, Matthew's Dream, Let's Play, Frederick, and The Greentail Mouse.
We also read two versions of the city mouse and the country mouse. One of my favorite moments in the month was, while reading Jan Brett's beautifully illustrated Town Mouse, Country Mouse, we came to the part where the male country mouse falls from a kitchen precipice into the paws of the slumbering house cat. At least one of my students had to turn away from the book, and shrieked, "I can't look!!!" This moment underscored for me the incredible power of reading to children at this age -- this little boy visualized a terrifying fate for the tiny husband and wife mice characters and he just couldn't face the prospect of what would happen if he looked at the book. He was very relieved and calmed down when he heard that, in this version, the two mice escape to return to their comfortable (at least to them) tree home in the country.
We made a list of facts we knew about mice, and lest you think first graders don't know anything about mice -- here's what we knew: mice have four legs, two eyes, two ears, a nose with nostrils, whiskers, gray, black or brown fur, and a long tail. Mice have tiny teeth, and they can bite you. Mice are not pets. Mice like to eat cheese, and run around the house. Mice live in holes, outside or in the house. Mice poop everywhere. Mice run fast.
In the course of the month I read snippets from books about mice and we uncovered more interesting facts: mice have 4-9 babies in a litter and an average of 17 litters in a year (!!!); baby mice are called kittens (we thought that was really interesting). A mouse's only real defense (according to one source) is its ability to run fast in a zigzag motion to escape a predator. We learned lots of animals like to eat mice -- almost all big birds, bats, owls, eagles, cats, tigers, and other big cats. Mice have amazingly sensitive hearing and can smell very well, but, on the other hand, mice can barely see. One non-fiction source said that some researchers think mice can only see one-two inches in front of them, which might account for why these little critters can wander into the clutches of my two orange tabbies and not blink an eye.
And so this September our 1st graders became mouse experts. Last week after three weeks of reading books with mouse characters and talking about mice anatomy and behavior, we went to the computer lab and drew pictures of mice, then opened a text box and wrote mouse facts on our drawings. It brought a very satisfying end to our discussions and when the students heard our drawings were going to be posted in the library with some of the books we had read -- well, we went wild! It was a very exciting culmination to the month.
Who needs aardvarks? Next month ... alligators!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
One Week Completed - 35 more to go!
It's a good thing I didn't try to write this post last night -- I was totally exhausted from the first week's proceedings. The transition back to the structure of the school day is really hard for all of us. By the time Friday afternoon rolls around, everyone is ready to collapse in a puddle on the floor!
Every day after lunch, we have a "Read-Aloud." On Friday afternoons after Read Aloud, we pass out the yellow "Take Home" folders and then spend a few minutes passing out letters, notices and completed work for the week. This is an activity that reminds you of the limits of first graders' spatial organizing abilities: It is very challenging for most first graders to organize papers in the confined space of a pocket folder: papers are folded, ripped, and hang out precipitously, signaling that we need to go back to square one. Yesterday we had less work to stuff, so it wasn't too difficult to get everyone's folders ship-shape. And that brings me around to today's post topic which is my discussion of why we have so little/such easy/not very much work during the first few weeks of school.
The first days of school are about establishing The Ground Rules. No matter how well organized last year was, no matter how well-behaved the child is, no matter what behaviors worked LAST year, the new school year is a totally new ballgame, a new drama with new roles and a new director. We can discuss our frustrations with the school's schedule, why a two month break is a bad idea and how we should alter the school year and our model is antiquated, yadayada yada.... but we have to work with the schedule we've got and so... all of September and a very big part of October is about setting expectations for behavior. Academics plays a role in this drama, but it is a supporting role which grows in importance after the first six weeks of school. Students and parents are sometimes impatient with this set-up.
Parents having watched their child laze about during the endless weeks summer with little or nothing to stimulate them intellectually and sometimes want to immediately rocket their six-year olds into a rich academic brew. The first parent comments often reflect a general anxiety about how "easy" the work is; parents usually underscore that they want their child "challenged" and they are looking for homework to begin right out of the gate.
Teachers are dealing with a completely different agenda in the first days of the year. When the students traipse in during early September we are faced with twenty or so small individuals who rely on us to organize and socialize them. Many students return to school anxious to find structure and friendships. The school year is analogous to the long race, not the sprint. I have no quick fixes in the first weeks of school.
My first need is to figure out what makes these individual children tick: who can sit in a circle for 15 minutes? who likes to fall over onto another child during meeting? who fidgets and constantly touches the person next to her? who calls out answers before everyone else finishes processing the question? who is quiet and good-natured? who is curious? who likes to read and can't put the book down? or does he just look at the words without having an impact? who reads, at what level? what kinds of books will she read? does she like science? reading about people from long ago? reading about children her age?
What's wonderful about September teaching is being confronted with a new class of these small people, each so different and alluring, a puzzle with endless configurations and solutions. Every September challenges me to dig into these small packages, requiring me to think about how to group them, seat them, organize them, motivate them, correct them, partner them, encourage them, you name it -- the list seems endless.
I can find superficial solutions to "challenging" an entering six-year old: I can go to the bookshelf and dig up a book of 2nd and 3rd grade multiplication and division math problems and that would probably satisfy the complaints. I could give my 1st graders whose parents claim their child read Harry Potter over the summer a 4th or 5th grade book. It would be like putting a child who hasn't learned to ride a two-wheeler on a motorcycle. It's possible to learn the mechanics , but he'd miss the exhilaration of learning how to keep his balance, to steady the handlebars, and to feel the excitement of pumping the pedals and taking off feeling the wind in his face...
So that's what I'm thinking when parents first words are about wanting me to challenge their child. If I do my job the way I should, as the weeks progress I'll know what the child's strengths are, what they like to do, and what they don't like to do. Sometimes a challenge is doing what you don't want to do because it makes you feel ...nervous, worried, not sure you'll excel at it. I'll be working on getting the child to think about what he does well and what he needs to work on. We'll reflect on what we need to do to make his work better. It's not just that the work needs to be harder, it may to be redone more neatly and more carefully. A challenge could mean we do less of what the child does easily and more of what he or she doesn't like to do. At the same time, sometimes parents aren't always happy that their child is still is learning to enjoy riding the bike, because they have visions of their 1st grader mountain biking, flying a plane, hangliding or parasailing.
Every day after lunch, we have a "Read-Aloud." On Friday afternoons after Read Aloud, we pass out the yellow "Take Home" folders and then spend a few minutes passing out letters, notices and completed work for the week. This is an activity that reminds you of the limits of first graders' spatial organizing abilities: It is very challenging for most first graders to organize papers in the confined space of a pocket folder: papers are folded, ripped, and hang out precipitously, signaling that we need to go back to square one. Yesterday we had less work to stuff, so it wasn't too difficult to get everyone's folders ship-shape. And that brings me around to today's post topic which is my discussion of why we have so little/such easy/not very much work during the first few weeks of school.
The first days of school are about establishing The Ground Rules. No matter how well organized last year was, no matter how well-behaved the child is, no matter what behaviors worked LAST year, the new school year is a totally new ballgame, a new drama with new roles and a new director. We can discuss our frustrations with the school's schedule, why a two month break is a bad idea and how we should alter the school year and our model is antiquated, yadayada yada.... but we have to work with the schedule we've got and so... all of September and a very big part of October is about setting expectations for behavior. Academics plays a role in this drama, but it is a supporting role which grows in importance after the first six weeks of school. Students and parents are sometimes impatient with this set-up.
Parents having watched their child laze about during the endless weeks summer with little or nothing to stimulate them intellectually and sometimes want to immediately rocket their six-year olds into a rich academic brew. The first parent comments often reflect a general anxiety about how "easy" the work is; parents usually underscore that they want their child "challenged" and they are looking for homework to begin right out of the gate.
Teachers are dealing with a completely different agenda in the first days of the year. When the students traipse in during early September we are faced with twenty or so small individuals who rely on us to organize and socialize them. Many students return to school anxious to find structure and friendships. The school year is analogous to the long race, not the sprint. I have no quick fixes in the first weeks of school.
My first need is to figure out what makes these individual children tick: who can sit in a circle for 15 minutes? who likes to fall over onto another child during meeting? who fidgets and constantly touches the person next to her? who calls out answers before everyone else finishes processing the question? who is quiet and good-natured? who is curious? who likes to read and can't put the book down? or does he just look at the words without having an impact? who reads, at what level? what kinds of books will she read? does she like science? reading about people from long ago? reading about children her age?
What's wonderful about September teaching is being confronted with a new class of these small people, each so different and alluring, a puzzle with endless configurations and solutions. Every September challenges me to dig into these small packages, requiring me to think about how to group them, seat them, organize them, motivate them, correct them, partner them, encourage them, you name it -- the list seems endless.
I can find superficial solutions to "challenging" an entering six-year old: I can go to the bookshelf and dig up a book of 2nd and 3rd grade multiplication and division math problems and that would probably satisfy the complaints. I could give my 1st graders whose parents claim their child read Harry Potter over the summer a 4th or 5th grade book. It would be like putting a child who hasn't learned to ride a two-wheeler on a motorcycle. It's possible to learn the mechanics , but he'd miss the exhilaration of learning how to keep his balance, to steady the handlebars, and to feel the excitement of pumping the pedals and taking off feeling the wind in his face...
So that's what I'm thinking when parents first words are about wanting me to challenge their child. If I do my job the way I should, as the weeks progress I'll know what the child's strengths are, what they like to do, and what they don't like to do. Sometimes a challenge is doing what you don't want to do because it makes you feel ...nervous, worried, not sure you'll excel at it. I'll be working on getting the child to think about what he does well and what he needs to work on. We'll reflect on what we need to do to make his work better. It's not just that the work needs to be harder, it may to be redone more neatly and more carefully. A challenge could mean we do less of what the child does easily and more of what he or she doesn't like to do. At the same time, sometimes parents aren't always happy that their child is still is learning to enjoy riding the bike, because they have visions of their 1st grader mountain biking, flying a plane, hangliding or parasailing.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Making Mistakes
Today I'm going to write about Making Mistakes. It might not seem to be the first topic that pops to mind -- except it does (pop to my mind, that is).
The first day opened smoothly; the children arrived with big smiles and great excitement to begin the new year. We always begin our days with a Morning Meeting -- an opportunity to gather in a circle (on our new placemats!) and greet each other with a smile and a handshake. I always model how NOT to greet someone -- I walk up to my student teacher, look disinterested and bored, stare at the floor and say in a very unpleasant tone, "Good Morning, Ms. G." The students all shake their heads and say, "She'll feel BAD!" I ask what I did that would make Ms. G. feel bad, and hands pop up. "You didn't look at her!" "You shook her hand like you were sick !" "You sounded mean and you didn't smile at her!" The children easily pick up on my negative body language. I ask them, "Well, what do I need to do to make her understand that I'm happy to see her?" They raise their hands (I don't call on them unless they do) and as they list the three basics of Greeting (eye contact, a firm but not hurtful shake with the right hand, using a clear voice to say their partner's name as they say or respond, "Good Morning, Juanita!") I am very impressed by how quickly they pick up on the right thing to do -- and understand the reasoning behind the actions.
As part of our Morning Meeting, we read a message that I write and post on the easel. One of the children noticed that I had written the wrong date on the message -- Thursday, September 5th, not the 4th as it should have been. I was quickly reminded that everyday I feel I could really use an editor and a valet to make it through the school day. It's easy to get flustered (which I was) and you need to take a moment to get your bearings. "Hmmmmm," I said as I looked at the message and the day's schedule, which was also wrong. "I made a mistake. Sometimes when people do things quickly, they make mistakes and that's what happened here. I wrote the dates without checking first. When I make a mistake, please help me to see it and I'll fix it. It's important to check your work, but sometimes, you may miss your mistakes. But it's very important that you not be afraid to make mistakes because you can fix them."
So that's the gist of today's post. We're working on creating a learning environment where students feel safe and cared for. We're creating a place where students can try to do things they didn't like to do before because... well maybe they weren't sure they could. We practice doing things over because.... sometimes it takes practice, lots of it, to get better at things. We're making a place where it's safe to try ...maybe even fail (yes, sometimes each one of us fails), but.... we can work at it, work really hard at it, and get better at it, whatever it is.
So the students got a big charge out of my message and calendar mistakes. I told them I make a LOT of mistakes everyday and they should try and help me find them and fix them. A few of the students looked at me like they really didn't believe me, but they will as the months roll on. The same is true for this blog. I re-read my first post and was reminded you shouldn't do things quickly, or in this case, after being up 15 hours on the night before school starts. That editor wasn't here to find all my typos. I haven't found out yet how to edit my text after I publish it (sigh). I'm reminded, however, that if I want to get good at this I just have to take the leap, learn from my mistakes and, hopefully, get better at it.
The first day opened smoothly; the children arrived with big smiles and great excitement to begin the new year. We always begin our days with a Morning Meeting -- an opportunity to gather in a circle (on our new placemats!) and greet each other with a smile and a handshake. I always model how NOT to greet someone -- I walk up to my student teacher, look disinterested and bored, stare at the floor and say in a very unpleasant tone, "Good Morning, Ms. G." The students all shake their heads and say, "She'll feel BAD!" I ask what I did that would make Ms. G. feel bad, and hands pop up. "You didn't look at her!" "You shook her hand like you were sick !" "You sounded mean and you didn't smile at her!" The children easily pick up on my negative body language. I ask them, "Well, what do I need to do to make her understand that I'm happy to see her?" They raise their hands (I don't call on them unless they do) and as they list the three basics of Greeting (eye contact, a firm but not hurtful shake with the right hand, using a clear voice to say their partner's name as they say or respond, "Good Morning, Juanita!") I am very impressed by how quickly they pick up on the right thing to do -- and understand the reasoning behind the actions.
As part of our Morning Meeting, we read a message that I write and post on the easel. One of the children noticed that I had written the wrong date on the message -- Thursday, September 5th, not the 4th as it should have been. I was quickly reminded that everyday I feel I could really use an editor and a valet to make it through the school day. It's easy to get flustered (which I was) and you need to take a moment to get your bearings. "Hmmmmm," I said as I looked at the message and the day's schedule, which was also wrong. "I made a mistake. Sometimes when people do things quickly, they make mistakes and that's what happened here. I wrote the dates without checking first. When I make a mistake, please help me to see it and I'll fix it. It's important to check your work, but sometimes, you may miss your mistakes. But it's very important that you not be afraid to make mistakes because you can fix them."
So that's the gist of today's post. We're working on creating a learning environment where students feel safe and cared for. We're creating a place where students can try to do things they didn't like to do before because... well maybe they weren't sure they could. We practice doing things over because.... sometimes it takes practice, lots of it, to get better at things. We're making a place where it's safe to try ...maybe even fail (yes, sometimes each one of us fails), but.... we can work at it, work really hard at it, and get better at it, whatever it is.
So the students got a big charge out of my message and calendar mistakes. I told them I make a LOT of mistakes everyday and they should try and help me find them and fix them. A few of the students looked at me like they really didn't believe me, but they will as the months roll on. The same is true for this blog. I re-read my first post and was reminded you shouldn't do things quickly, or in this case, after being up 15 hours on the night before school starts. That editor wasn't here to find all my typos. I haven't found out yet how to edit my text after I publish it (sigh). I'm reminded, however, that if I want to get good at this I just have to take the leap, learn from my mistakes and, hopefully, get better at it.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
The Day Before School Starts
While I have some very limited experience blogging with my daughters (yes, I have five children, four daughters - two married, one with two children 4 and 7 months, a second with a 3 year old) about our gardens, our attempts to manage food consumption, grandchildren news and family events, I have not yet ventured into the arena of blogging about the school day(s). This year I made a promise to test the waters to see if it is realistic for me to try and keep parents updated and informed via a blog. The first caveat seems to me is to set parent expectations very low, so that if it becomes unwieldy to sit down and write, the 1D parent community won't be too disappointed.
The second caveat seems to me to take care to make certain that parents understand that as jumping into the blogging arena is a bit of a risky venture for a teacher -- I want to bring parents along on the journey through the schoolday and give them a peak into what I see and hear in my teaching. At the same time I need to caution the community to be aware that sometimes they'll also be privy to self-reflection and ruminations on how I handled certain moments, sometimes presenting myself in a less than perfect light. Certainly no teacher wants to paint him or herself as weak, vacillating or indecisive. I 'm aware of the need create a persona that's humble (I'm still learning!), respectable, reasonable, but not omniscient.
So the desks are cleaned and labeled; the Morning Message is written, the scheduled is on the board, the parent information packets are stacked neatly, ready for distribution tomorrow. Most of the students arrived today to "get the lay of the land," some were quiet and shy, some wouldn't talk to me, some were so excited to see the room and their friends they didn't really want to talk to me -- that's all fine. The point was to make tomorrow morning's arrival a little more comfortable, a little less intimidating. The students (and their parents) got to look me in the eye and test whether I was scary (or nice) or funny or just okay. Everyone got to shake my hand or give me a "pinky shake," which is an acceptable compromise. I like to end each day with a handshake or a hug or a high-five, just so that we have some symbolic ritual of closure for the day. I'm a big believer in rituals and routines. More on those later.
I hope to post at least once a week. If I can find the time to do more, so be it! Let me know via e-mail if you have insights or thoughts, and we'll see how things progress.
The second caveat seems to me to take care to make certain that parents understand that as jumping into the blogging arena is a bit of a risky venture for a teacher -- I want to bring parents along on the journey through the schoolday and give them a peak into what I see and hear in my teaching. At the same time I need to caution the community to be aware that sometimes they'll also be privy to self-reflection and ruminations on how I handled certain moments, sometimes presenting myself in a less than perfect light. Certainly no teacher wants to paint him or herself as weak, vacillating or indecisive. I 'm aware of the need create a persona that's humble (I'm still learning!), respectable, reasonable, but not omniscient.
So the desks are cleaned and labeled; the Morning Message is written, the scheduled is on the board, the parent information packets are stacked neatly, ready for distribution tomorrow. Most of the students arrived today to "get the lay of the land," some were quiet and shy, some wouldn't talk to me, some were so excited to see the room and their friends they didn't really want to talk to me -- that's all fine. The point was to make tomorrow morning's arrival a little more comfortable, a little less intimidating. The students (and their parents) got to look me in the eye and test whether I was scary (or nice) or funny or just okay. Everyone got to shake my hand or give me a "pinky shake," which is an acceptable compromise. I like to end each day with a handshake or a hug or a high-five, just so that we have some symbolic ritual of closure for the day. I'm a big believer in rituals and routines. More on those later.
I hope to post at least once a week. If I can find the time to do more, so be it! Let me know via e-mail if you have insights or thoughts, and we'll see how things progress.
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