What is new?

Two year old Frog is full of questions, and one reins supreme these days - "What is that?" Nothing new or different seems to escape her view. Often, what is new or different is purposefully planned by me - I will set out something playful for her, maybe hiding it in a special box or container first, and leave this near the spot(s) of my house that she most enjoys playing. These provocations always excite her; "what did you find for me?" she asks, "what is new?" 

In recent weeks, I have been madly culling and cleaning and rearranging my home, and this means that there have been many "new to her" things for Frog to notice. When her Nana is a newly-retired preschool teacher, the rewards are many for this youngster! I have created a writing studio for myself in my basement, setting out many of my school journals and photos as inspiration. My days with children are definitely my writing muse; my grandchildren are, as well. The basement is now also a more welcoming space for Frog to play and explore, with all my picture books on bookshelves, and a variety of toys included. We have been spending more and more time in the basement in recent weeks.

The other day, Frog pointed to something at the top of a bookshelf - "What is that?" Hmm. What had I moved there? Oh! It's a catapult! Immediately, she was intrigued and wanted to see it; immediately, I was transported back to my time at a conference at Bev Bos' school, which I had the delight of visiting in the summer of 2011. TEN YEARS AGO. Wow. Has it really been ten years, already?

This little wooden catapult was made especially for preschoolers, and it uses ping-pong balls - there's no one getting hurt by this play! I was excited when I saw it, and bought one on the spot, thinking it would be a fun thing to explore in my classroom. Bev Bos believed passionately in joyful, exploratory play, letting children be curious and figure out things through doing. She (and I) liked to sit back and observe what children did with things - How might they use them? What are the children wondering about? What do they think to do, as they play?

I never ended up bringing that catapult into my classroom. I began teaching at a DC public charter in the fall of 2011, teaching a minimum of 22 preschoolers every year. Although I believe firmly in the whimsical play of the catapult, I couldn't figure out how to bring in this one gadget and share it successfully with so many students, without many of the children feeling left out a good deal of the time. That was NOT an experience I wanted my students to have. Yes, truth is, these early learning years require materially-rich school environments, where children play freely and effortlessly, without fear of there not being enough, without threat of not being included.

That little catapult sat in a closet at my house; I suppose, waiting for grandchildren? I moved it to the top of a bookshelf in the midst of my decluttering and cleaning, and there my dear Frog noticed it.

I got it down from the shelf and placed it in front of Frog, along with the small bin of ping-pong balls, and I said "It's a catapult. What do you think it can do?" There ensued such a happy, laughing time. Frog roared with laughter when the ping-pong ball went sailing into the air over her Poppa's head. Over and over again, she repeated the performance. She had a little trouble keeping the base of the catapult steady, and soon realized that these shifting positions seemed to send the ball into different directions - this cause and effect fascinated her. Frog began to hold the catapult in one place, and then to aim it in certain directions. This is what I love about such discovery - it is ripe with natural, organic learning. Balls flew far and wide, with Poppa and me racing to collect them for her. So many laughs! This fabulous play did not last just a few minutes; in fact, Frog played with the catapult for more than an hour of play, ending only at her nap time. I am awed by how long a young child's attention span really is, when they are engaged in play.

What was her first question upon waking up from nap?  "Catapult, Nana?" 

A few days later, Frog - who is a very verbal 27 month old - reflected on the experience, hoping to play with the catapult again:

"We're going to get the balls and I'm going to push the button and then the ball goes everywhere and we were laughing. That's a catapult. Balls go on when you push a button, it will go. Wanna collect that one ball."

I am reminded about how important it is for children to DO - to discover, tinker, stretch, wonder, figure things out on their own.

I am grateful for Bev Bos and her wisdom about children's play.

I am grateful for Frog and catapults and laughter.

The treasure that is Bev Bos

This is a Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers. 

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.


______________________________

Roseville Community Preschool

Today, I need to share about the loss of early childhood educator Bev Bos, who died this past Thursday, February 4th. We lost a tireless and passionate advocate for early childhood play. These words grace the walls of her Roseville Community Preschool in Roseville, California:

Our challenge is not
 to prepare children for school,
 but 

to prepare schools for children. 

- Docia Zavitskovksy

How to organize for exploration (RCP)

Bev Bos threw open the doors of her preschool and invited others to see how to do this right. I had the delight of attending her week-long "Good Stuff for Kids" conference in summer 2011, just before my new school opened. What a glorious week! I attended the conference with my friend Janise, also a preschool teacher, and devoured ideas and possibilities for my own classroom. Bev and her team showed us ways to set up classroom learning space so that children might easily explore and discover, demonstrated fun science and art activities that emphasized process not product, showered us with great new picture books for read-alouds, gathered us in sing-alongs, and shared so much insight and inspiration about being with children.

Outdoor play at Roseville Community Preschool

Bev taught us to not only think about children but to follow their beck and call, to fill our classrooms and our curriculum with their delights - constructive, interactive, unending exploration of
how things work, 
why things are, 
what does this do, 
why might that be, 
how about this. 

Your hands show that you've had fun!

She recognized the consummate scientist in every child, providing them with unending opportunities to explore with all their senses. Perhaps my favorite Bev quote that my students hear me say all the time,
"If you  go home from school without dirt under your nails, I haven't done my job."

Oh, how she loved children, each individual child! She embraced their storytelling, sitting alongside them in the midst of their play, wherever they were in the classroom, listening, and inviting them to answer, "How does your story begin?"

She was truly present with children.

What do you want to investigate?

She loved to read to children, collecting so many fabulous picture books, and - here's where I just tremble at her respect for little ones - she dared to stop reading if they weren't captivated by a book she had chosen to read, saying "Today, this is not the book they need." (How many of us are this flexible with our plans? How many of us are allowed to be this flexible?)

Sit and play here - Roseville Community Preschool

        Bev never demanded that a single child sit and be present at her read-alouds, her storytelling, or any large group gathering. She figured if they didn't come over, she wasn't sharing anything of real value to them at that moment. Every time I have a whole group gathering, her brazen faith in children crosses my mind as I sadly fail to duplicate it.  Think: most of us in public schools are held to an unrealistic expectation by our administrators that every young child be participating in our whole groups; so many schools have the added expectation that children be seated and quiet while the adult leads.  Shouldn't we question this expectation? Bev would surely want us to do so.

What would happen if we added this to that?

Bev knew our schools were very different than her own and she challenged us to find some part of her approach to recreate. In what ways might we find a little more time outside? More opportunities to muck about, to play with water, mud, dirt, sand?  How can we make our activities more process than product? What loose parts can we bring in, reuse, invent with? 

A labyrinth made from shoes at Roseville Community Preschool

Her inspiration works magic in my classroom each and every day. This past Thursday morning, I looked to see a few of my more solitary preschoolers working together in the block area. I had never seen them work together before; these preschoolers prefer to play alone or alongside their peers rather than 'with.' However, there they were, creating a ramp from pieces of wood - attaching it to the big cozy chair in the classroom, setting its base on a couple of large blocks, funneling the ramp into a succession of three small buckets. They raced a variety of small cars, trying to get these to jump into each of the buckets, predicting which bucket each would land in as it rolled. Though we had guided on many previous days, no teacher was in this center with them. They were on their own and delighted to explore.

Outdoor play materials at Roseville Community Preschool

I heard their happy companionship, the beginnings of friendship - 

"My car goes next!"
"The yellow car is super fast"
"Second bucket! Second bucket!"
"Yes!!"
"Let's do it this way - how about we try this?"

Hearing later about her death and reflecting on the beauty and surprise of these solitary friends finding one another over loose parts, I wonder,
Was Bev giving my classroom one last embrace, as she left us?

Bev (center) with two of her many groupies - Janise and I

"If it's in the hand and in the body, it's in the brain."  

- Bev Bos

Tuesday SOL Stories mean relationship

It is Tuesday and this is a "Slice of Life" for Two Writing Teachers.  Check out their website for lots more reflections on teaching.

The first weeks of preschool have been
a seemingly endless series of
immediate must-do's and small crises,
such as -

helping children out of soiled clothes,
wiping up spilled milk,
interpreting loud voices and screeches,
changing wet clothes and bed linens,
preventing bodily harm,
rushing dancing children to the bathroom,
"herding cats," as we prepare for walks,
helping children find their words,
negotiating sharing and other disputes,
checking for hives and allergic responses,
comforting children in tears.

Each of these is momentary,
a mere flash in the day,
inconsequential when only once,
but remarkably stressful when they occur over and over,
as they have,
these first few weeks.

Each of these moments springs up as quickly as a mother bird from a nest when someone comes near... unexpectedly, surprisingly,
from 'out of nowhere.'

Is this year of teaching more difficult than others?
Or is this what every new year feels like for awhile?

What is different?

Perhaps it is because my youngest has gone to college, my own nest is empty?

I don't know.

Some ten of my preschoolers are newly three - meaning, there are many, many potty accidents. We haven't had a day without them.  Adding considerably to the work, a couple preschoolers are still learning to have bowel movements in the toilet - these accidents are developmentally normal, but much tougher in an elementary school environment, where bathrooms are down the hall and we do not have changing facilities.

There have been a lot of tears at drop off, these very young preschoolers feel anxious about their new days at school.

We have a couple students with acute food allergies, and we must be vigilant during breakfast, lunch, and snacks - all of which are eaten in our room. I have found myself near tears over spilled milk.

It has been essential during these first weeks of school to slow things down,
to emphasize soothing, comfortable, safe, fun, and loving,
in all that I do in the classroom.
How can we settle in together?
How can I help these preschoolers adjust to school?
What helps?

I reflected - What do I love to do? What is essential? What feels right?

Ahhh,
"How does your story begin?"

This fabulous curriculum idea from Bev Bos has been particularly delightful in these first few weeks,
as we build community together,
from our many disparate perspectives.

In and about every little mishap that I am dealing with, I can cuddle up to someone and ask, "How does your story begin?" and get the most delightful responses. The children are so happy to share, and particularly delighted that I am careful to record their responses in my computer - only to read these aloud at our daily closing.

How does your story begin?

I find out about their favorite tales....

With Little Red Riding Hood.  Little Red Riding Hood went to her grandma’s house, went to see her grandma at the doctor. Then the big bad wolf came and ate the grandma. Then Little Red Riding Hood was at the doctor now. She went inside and saw her grandma. And she brought some candy for her. And then the big bad wolf said, “I am not your grandma!” [uses growly voice] “I’m not your grandma!!” Then Little Red Riding Hood says, “you don’t look like my grandma!” and then Little Red Riding Hood says, “You’re the big bad wolf!!” Then the wolf spit the grandma out and then grandma came home with Little Red Riding Hood. The End  [Caroline]

The itsy bitsy spider is my favorite story. He went up the water spout, and down came the rain and he went out! Then he got in again. Spiders go on webs. I saw one at the park, the park with the water for babies. Spiders do not like water. There was a bug in my car, in Black Jack. Black Jack is my car. I have this dress with flowers. My Mom let me wore this dress to school! It is all blue and red. The End. [Amelie]

Once upon a time there was an egg named Humpty dumpty. He sat on the wall and he fall off the wall. And then the kids helped Humpty Dumpty’s face. And then he got candy – he got a lollipop. The kids gave it to him. He said “I like that candy. It is so tasty and so yummy.” And he ate the whole thing! The End. [Jasmine]

The big bad wolf and the three little pigs. The big bad wolf blows the three houses over – whooooosh! And he blows the brick house down. These two little pigs run to the brother’s house. The End. [Evan]

How does your story begin?

 I find out about their imaginations...

Once upon a time in the faraway land, a girl named Jenu – Mom and Pop left Jenu at the house. The lady who was cleaning up, but Jenu was screaming, and the lady who was cleaning up called the policia. Then, once upon a time there was three little pigs and they blew and huffed and puffed and the big bad wolf ate the mother. Then the big bad wolf spit out the mother. Then her baby brought Jenu and an alligator and a crocodile and walked all the way in the woods and ate Jenu, Then the alligator and the crocodile put Jenu in a box. The End! [Shaan]

I have a monster in my house and it knocks down the windows and it is really nice. You knock down the ceiling. It falls down to the ground. And you fall on the floor. The great big monster eats the curtain. It has a really big eye. The End. [Charlie]

I’m thinking. It’s fun to think about the other story I did outside our classroom, and what I said. I don’t want my sleeves to get sweaty. And my arms are hot! All the other friends’ stories start with Once upon a time. Shaan’s story starts with Once upon a time. Once upon a time. My real stories at home, which are in a book, all start with once upon a time. So, I wanted mine to start with once upon a time, too. [Hallie]

There was a monster and a kid. The kid was wobbling. And along came a monster and he ate the kid up. And then a big M came and rescued the kid! And then, a father came and then he took the kid home. The kid played. He played and played, until a big, big, big bumblebee came in and snapped him and ate him up. And then the bumblebee ate the father and mother and the little baby. The End. [Micaela]

Once upon a time, little red riding hood went apple picking and one day the big bad wolf came. And the wolf ate her. Then, a monster comes and spits her out! The monster fights with the wolf. The wolf was fighting with the monster. And the monster was fighting with the wolf. [Bernie]

I have a princess story. This is a Cinderella one. I was doing this thing, I was telling my Mommy a secret in her ear at my house. And my door was glass. [Lily]

How does your story begin?

I find out about their daily lives...

My mommy used to read me stories when I was little. She gave me milkie when I was little. I love how the Mommy talks. She gets to wash my hair. And Daddy gives me some water so I will finish my bath. And then my Daddy washes my hair with it. [Ada]

I have a baby. Her name is Kamara Miriam. And my Omi is here. She’s gonna stay at my house and sleep. Mommy, we just name her Kimberley. I used to play with Kamara but she’s not a toy. My Momma said to me, my Momma said to me, my Momma said to me, “she’s not a toy.”  The End [Alysa]

Cole has superstickers, batman stickers. He has a dog. He is my friend. I am going to think of another one. I want to have - ummm, I have a baby brother. His name is Wes. I give him baby stories and baby toys. I was a little baby. My Daddy would leave me in the sink!!I have another story.  I want to tell a story about letters. I was a little baby and I used to have letters in my home. I give my toys to my Mom and Dad. When I was a little baby, I used to have a bottle. [Eloise]

I fell down the stairs and I had blood going down my nose. I had blood on my lip, and this happened to my leg. That’s my story! [Hughie]

I have a Mommy and she used to give me a bath in the sink when I was a tiny baby. I get a bath in the bathtub! Then, teeth brushed. Then stories and bed. [Lavinia]

I went to the beach and I stayed at a hotel and I meet my Grandma and my Daddy and I had my cozy room with the air on. Then I wake up and I went to the beach. And I played in there. My Spiderman surfboard went into the water so that I can surf there. That is the end! [Zuren]

These five simple words


How does your story begin?

are helping to smooth out our days together.


We have just begun our fifth week of school, and
I feel a sense of calm,
of pleasure,
of community.

These five simple words


How does your story begin?

fit conveniently into so many small moments...

whether I am

sitting with children outside the bathroom,

rubbing backs of restless children at nap time,

re-directing 'spirited' children from certain activities,

wherever,

whenever.

The children ask me,
frequently and regularly,
'Ms. Ingram, can I tell you a story?'


The children gather quickly for our daily closing, to hear the stories I have collected that day, in and about our doings...

These five simple words

How does your story begin?

are helping me to build sweet new relationships

between me and my students,
between my students and each other,
helping all of us to understand each other a little better.


Here's to our year together!!