SOLSC #20 What if we take one step closer?

During the month of March, I am participating in
the Slice of Life Story Challenge.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day for thirty-one days. My slices will be primarily about teaching preschoolers.

Check out the Two Writing Teachers website for many more reflections on teaching.

He appeared out of nowhere in the hallway with several of his middle-school classmates, on his way to class. She, the mom, had just dropped off her sweet little guy at my preschool classroom, to start his day. As she passed by, his shoulder knocked against hers, and then he fell to the floor - much to the merriment of his classmates. Mom was a little surprised, asked if he was okay, he nodded yes in the midst of the laughter, and everyone went on their way.

The next morning, as Mom left my classroom after kissing her little guy goodbye, there he appeared again, tall, imposing, mischievous, surrounded by his middle-school friends. As Mom headed down the hall, he jabbed his shoulder into her shoulder, all the while sporting a big grin, and he threw himself down onto the floor, accompanied by more laughter from his friends. Mom hurried out of the school, on her way to work, but, unlike the day before, an uneasy feeling lingered. Was he doing this on purpose? Why this interaction two days in a row? After some thought, she contacted our principal, to share her concerns.

She didn't know his name. She could only provide a physical description.

The first I heard about any of the above was when the sixth grade boy was brought to my classroom by the principal mid-day, while the preschoolers were napping. The principal asked me if I had a little boy named Mark in my class. Yes, I do. Then she introduced John to me, the middle-schooler, and asked him to tell me why he was here. "I bumped into Mark's mother today and yesterday," he said in a quiet, uneven, chagrined voice. The principal continued, "John has written a note of apology. I think it is very important for him to meet Mark's Mom in person, to deliver the apology. What time does she pick up Mark?" And so it was agreed that John would return to apologize in person that afternoon, and give the note of apology.

Oh these foolish, young boys. There is nothing more important than making your classmates laugh.

The end of the day arrived, preschoolers were being dismissed to their families, and John appeared as planned. I introduced him to little Mark, saying "You'll be apologizing to this little guy's Mom." John was visibly contrite, looking a little nervous about what was yet to come. Into the classroom walks Mark's Mom and she sees John and me and her eyes grow wide. They step out into the hallway and John says his apology and gives her the note, and then he scoots away. Mark's Mom comes over to me, and whispers "How did he know to come here? I didn't want him to know who my child was. I have to tell you I am very scared of him. He said a very nice apology, but he did that mean shoving two days in a row. I think I'm being stalked. I spoke to the principal because I am scared."

I was caught off-guard by this and simply patted her arm, assuringly, saying, "It's okay. He feels very badly about what he did." Mom and Mark went on their way.

However, I couldn't shake the taste of this interaction, her words to me. I wondered,

Does it matter that this middle-schooler is Black?
Does it matter that this Mom is White?
How are we to be in community together - diverse people, diverse ages, preschool, elementary, middle school?
What does it mean for our community if adults are afraid of certain students?
How do we move towards one another?

I am the mother of three boys and any one of them could have done what John did when they were in middle-school. They did many, many foolish things. My boys are White. Did they get a free pass for silly, immature antics at this age?

After several days of wondering and wrestling with this, I followed Mark's Mom out of the classroom after drop-off and opened up the conversation again. "Hey, I was just wondering, have you seen John again since his apology?"

"No, actually, I haven't. Isn't that weird?"

"Well, I hope you do see him soon. I think it would be great if you gave him a big hello and called him by name. 11 and 12 year old boys are so foolish sometimes; my own boys embarrassed me greatly at that age."

And I left it at that.

Maybe a little preachy on my part...but, I wonder. How do we move towards one another? What if we dare to take one step closer?

Everything I know I didn't learn in kindergarten

Tuesday Slice of Life with Two Writing Teachers


When I traveled a few weeks ago to support my Mom during her stroke recovery, one interesting coincidence for me was that she was being treated in Charleston, SC, which was where my family lived when I was a little girl. My Dad was in the Navy and we lived on the Charleston Naval Base. I lived there from age 1 through age 5. I remember walking with my older brothers, past the Marine guards on base, to kindergarten at the parochial school across the street from the naval base.

I'm not sure why I remember this so vividly, because I only went to kindergarten for about 3 weeks. Yes, truth be told,  I was a kindergarten dropout.

Here's a picture of me visiting my old kindergarten, a few weeks ago!

Many years ago, my Mom explained that she just couldn't deal with my daily tantrums - every morning when she brushed my hair to get ready for school, I would begin crying, begging not to go.  My own memory is that my baby brother Ralph was a newborn, and I wanted desperately to stay home with him. Besides, my 3 year old brother Sonny was at home, why did he get to stay home but I didn't?

Back then (1964), you were not required to go to kindergarten. Mom stopped sending me and I went right into first grade, when we moved to Connecticut the next year.

I think a lot about how different my childhood was from that of the children I teach.
Staying home, alongside my mother.
Tinkering, exploring, messing about,
doing whatever I wanted to do.
Playing with my dolls, as long as I darn pleased.
Probably not following much of a schedule at all.
I bet I lingered in my pajamas each day.

Isn't this strange to think about?
How different childhood is now?

SOLSC #16 Living inside hope

The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for.  The very best you can give yourself is to live inside that hope.

                       -  Barbara Kingsolver  


I heard this quote on Tuesday* and it lingers on my mind.  
I am lost in thought about this.  Beautiful thoughts.

Thought I'd use it as a writing prompt this morning.  


I think I am a very reflective person.  I would have to reflect on this a bit to be absolutely certain.  


It seems as if I always soul-search.  Always thinking, am I doing what I should be doing? Is this what I hope for?

I am delighted to write - I believe I am living inside my hope.
I believe I am giving myself the very best.

A few years back, I watched as public school systems started to embed preschoolers in their buildings.  I was safely and happily ensconced in a private preschool.  A shiver ran down my back.  I wondered - what will this environment be like for preschoolers?  Will those older grades "tamp down" on the younger ones, insisting on more academic goals and expectations? Would the classrooms themselves look like little children lived there? Would there be disparities between "public school preschool" and "private school preschool"? Who is going to make sure that preschool remains joyful, playful, explorative, child-centered?

I am so delighted to be working at a public charter school in Washington, D.C.  For the first time in my life, I am working alongside elementary school teachers - passionate educators - and we are working to create an excellent learning environment for every child.  I am exhausted but fortified by being part of the founding faculty - we opened this past August.  I am honored to be working alongside many motivated and idealistic new, beginning teachers.  I have a large class of happy, engaged, active three and four year olds.  I have landed in a wonderful, dynamic, caring community.

What truly excites me is the sense that this community is not at all "alone."  Through the many visitors to our school, interactions with educators at conferences and workshops, even the comments I have been receiving and the blogs I am discovering through this month of slicing - I see so many inspired teachers, professionals who celebrate early childhood as the foundation of all learning, and live that out in extraordinary ways, each day for each child.

The very best you can give yourself is to live inside that hope.


I am truly blessed.

*See yesterday's blogpost - I attended the Potomac Association of Cooperative Teachers' Spring Conference - and hearing Jacky Howell speak.  Her topic was "Being a Reflective Teacher."

What about older students?

For years, I've worked at a preschool that was simply that, a preschool - a sweet campus full of two, three, four, and "just turned five" year old children.

This year, my preschool class of three year olds is embedded in an elementary school, a brand new school that has children through third grade (and in subsequent years, we will grow one older classroom a year until we are a campus of preschool through eighth grade).


I am really enjoying having older students in the same building.
I am noticing many very special relationships forming.
I am noticing that there are so many positives for both the younger and the older children.
And their teachers.

Each of the younger classes has been paired with an older class. My preschoolers are paired with Ms. Kopsidas' first grade class. Every Friday, we visit one another for 20-30 minutes (just long enough, from a 3 year old's perspective!)...we read books and do art projects together. We have even done some engineering together!

Visiting the first grade classroom is a highlight of the week.

I love how my students look up to the bigger kids. My threes look at these older students with pure admiration. (My most rambunctious children go positively quiet - in awe, perhaps?) Our time together is consistently sweet.


In addition to these planned, whole class get-togethers, we have nurtured relationships between individual elementary students and the preschoolers, as part of our school-wide discipline approach.

We teachers are committed to having a school environment that pays attention to the social-emotional needs of all our students.

Since this is our very first year - a brand new school - the older students (first, second, and third graders) have educational stories that we don't fully know - mysteries really, that we are trying to discern.
Some of these students - although no more than seven or eight years old - already have powerful internal voices that shout
"I'm not capable!! I can't!!"
Perhaps they feel unsuccessful at reading, or math, or making a friend.

Their teachers see the frustration and anger played out in all different ways, ranging from
shutting down, going quiet, and refusing to participate
to
flailing, yelling, and even hitting.

For these children, having little ones on campus is an extraordinary gift.

As a staff, we asked ourselves,
What do these challenging older students need?
We decided to do a pretty radical thing. We agreed to welcome older students as visitors to our younger classrooms...when a scene change is needed.
We welcome the older student to visit the younger classroom and start anew.
We don't chastise the visitor.
[You won't hear us speak sharply, "Sit over there and be quiet!".
Where did we get the idea that children won't do the right thing without consistent rebuke and recrimination?]
Instead, we invite them to join us in whatever we are doing.

I have had students arrive during our centers time and begin to play alongside. They have joined us at nap time and helped us pat the children on the back, to get them to sleep. Sometimes they come into the classroom and read books to my students.

Let me share an example:

Recently a third grader visited us during centers, a big scowl on her face. I knew something must have been going wrong in her homeroom, but I smiled at her and welcomed her to join us. I invited her to help the children at the clay table and she immediately put on a smock and rolled up her sleeves. She showed the children how to make a clay mold of their own hands. I was amused and delighted by her observation about the children, while using the clay – “They sure use a lot of materials!” [Yes, preschoolers do – and this is how our learning works best with this age group, a materials rich environment, open-ended, exploratory, allowing children to make decisions for themselves, to feel less threatened – to provide the sense that there are ample resources.] This young girl stayed with us only for about 15 minutes, during which time she witnessed a tantrum by one of my students and she helped to soothe the child. She returned to her classroom with her head held high.

Whenever my students are at the clay center, they still try to create a clay mold of their hands - just like they learned from their older friend that day.

Preschoolers are thrilled to have an older student visit. To have an older child walk into the room is to have a rock star stop by! The children gleefully call out his name and they race to his side.
I love how the older student swells with pride,
whatever was wrong is forgotten.
They are the cool person now.
Competent. Able. Needed. Important.
I believe this empowers these children, helps them feel needed, that they belong, that they have purpose.

I have no doubt that our school-wide approach to focus on the social-emotional first and foremost is pivotal to these elementary school students becoming great learners. Unless we help them in social-emotional terms, academic achievement is not in their grasp.


It is so very special to have older children in the same building!
I love this community of ours.



The most unlovable child is the most in need of love.

Are you too worn down?

I am working with new early childhood teachers in DC public schools.
They have so much to do.
So much to learn.
So many bosses.
So much pressure.

I want them to think of the individual children in their room and
to plan their curriculum with these children at the heart of it,
but they are too burdened to see the children at times.

Formal observation by principal tomorrow.
Where is your attendance record?
Unscheduled staff meeting today, mandatory.
All the PreK teachers are expected to teach the following skills...
Assessments due at the beginning of the month - 80% success is anticipated.
There is no art class today; students will remain in your classroom for more learning.
Need more data about this special ed student.
Need your lesson plan by this time each week.
Need more details - you must delineate the learning objectives.
No assistant today - your assistant must sub in another classroom. You are solo with 18 students.
This parent needs to meet with you today about their child.
This looks like play. What evidence is there of learning?
Our consultant requests more data on...
Be sure that your students tuck their shirts in.
Where is your current student data? This needs to be posted at all times.
Parent-teacher conferences are tomorrow.
Where is the evidence that you have taught this?
Are you following procedure for the field trip? Where is your bus form?
Individual running records for your 18 students are due by day's end.
Answer the phone in your classroom immediately, regardless of being mid-lesson - the office calls with important questions.
All students must be sitting cross-legged at whole group time, mouths closed.
Are your students tracking you when you speak?
Pull outs for the assessment will begin tomorrow.
Let me check the security videotape of your classroom, to see if that really happened.
We've decided to switch to this assessment tool.
Indoor recess will be in your classroom.
Teachers must accompany their class during lunch.
All classes must walk down the hall quietly, in single line. No disruptions.
Our instructional coaches will make surprise visits, to ensure you are on pace.

Be sure! Be sure! Be sure!
You must! You must! You must!


These external pressures -
requiring teachers to do certain things at precise times,
insisting that young children do certain things in precise ways -
make for anxious, worried teachers.

These teachers work with the understanding that their jobs are on the line.

I sound like I'm speaking a foreign language when I say
I want them to think of the individual children in their room and
to plan their curriculum with these children at the heart of it.

These teachers are too burdened to see the children at times.

It should come as no surprise that it is often difficult to hear joy in some of these classrooms.

What are you like "under pressure"?

Are there trains on your mind?

There's a little guy at one of the schools I visit who loves trains more than anything in the world.
We've all met three year olds like this.
Trains, trains, trains.

This week -
He was supposed to use the dot markers to make AB AB patterns.
He was supposed to use the unix cubes for the same purpose.

My little friend made trains.

It was awesome!!

And here's what I overheard:

That's Percy.
Percy, follow me.
Thomas is number one!
You are a useful engine, you know.
Round and round.
Toot! Toot!
And those steam engines!
Those steam engines!
Those steam engines!
Then, you know, you bump into them.
They'll fall apart.
Let them go.
They are freight cars.
Look at the trains!
They are together.
This is the steam engine, the little one.
I'm going to look for Diesel.
Oh, Mr. Conductor!
Bam! I got mine!
I'll take yours.
May I take yours?
Sure you can, Thomas.
Good job, Percy, good job!
Oh, I like your freight cars.

I think he'd make a great teacher - able to work within the constraints put on him and transform it creatively into the world he seeks.

Slice of Life - the challenge of public preK

My Tuesday morning mentoring is cancelled this beautiful spring day, because that school is on a different spring break schedule than the rest of us. I have a "found" morning - let's write!
Better yet, let's try my hand at the "Slice of Life" challenge...

"Slice of Life" is a weekly writing challenge on the Two Writing Teachers blog, which I have recently discovered and I encourage you to check out, too. These are some inspirational teachers!

They write:
"Each day we read a little and write a slice of life."

So, I'll take my cue from them.

I read in this morning's Washington Post:

"Funding for early-childhood education declined between 2009 and 2010, even as the Obama administration urged states to increase pre-kindergarten programs for 3- and 4-year olds, according to a study released Tuesday.

[Education Secretary Arne] Duncan said yesterday that the cuts present "real challenges to young people who are desperately fighting to enter the mainstream."

Funding challenges aside, teaching 3 and 4 year olds in our public schools is pretty much a given in many locations throughout our nation. (For example, D.C.)

But, I wonder (or, perhaps, I vent)-

Who decides what that education looks like?
What are the differences between private preschools and public ones? What are the similarities? Are there bridges between?
What is the effect of having preschool in an elementary school - does it change the tone of the program?
How do we ensure that learning through play is the foundation of these public programs?
How do we ensure that preschool classrooms reflect the individual children and community within?


I've taught at private preschools for years. I am now mentoring PreK teachers in public schools. I have been reflecting lots about the two worlds.

I've never had to teach a stand-alone math period.
Yet, my teaching is rich with counting, measuring, problem-solving, logic.

I've never had to teach a stand-alone language period.
Yet, my teaching is rich with reading, vocabulary, word play, writing, storytelling.

I've never had a scripted curriculum.

I've never had to give my children tests.

I start with children's interests - the children in my class. The curriculum themes emerge.

I intentionally weave reading, math, social-emotional, music, physical, art, engineering, sensory, and other opportunities into every topic.

Give me your child-centered, playful topic and I will tell you the learning possibilities. I will even provide you with data and documentation.

For me as teacher, this is an exhilarating, dynamic, and intellectual pursuit - I am continually observing, learning, and changing.

Is this approach unique to private preschools?
How might we ensure that it is not?


Strong leadership is essential to secure funding for public preschool.
Strong leadership is also essential for how it is executed - how public preschool plays out, pun intended.

Where is the dollhouse?

I have always loved dolls. I had a dollhouse as a young girl, but I had to give it away when I turned 13 to a White Elephant Sale - my mother explained I was too big to play with dolls.

My mother was wrong.

I am still very partial to dolls.

I missed that dollhouse for many years.

One year when the boys were young, my husband bought me a dollhouse for my birthday, much to my delight. I painted it the same colors as our real house. I made furniture for it.

I kept the dollhouse in our family room and the boys played and played at it. I provided toy furniture and toy people, near at hand, freely tossed into accessible bins...but the children brought many other treasures to the dollhouse.
Sometimes Thomas the Tank Engine was in the dollhouse.
Sometimes it was simply zoo animals, particularly elephant families.
Sometimes we built enormous cities, with roads that led right to the dollhouse.
Sometimes it was just one doll figure, over and over again, using the toy toilet.
(Sometimes that one doll figure was Han Solo.)


When the boys entered elementary school and I had my own preschool class, I brought my dollhouse to my classroom...and watched lots of the same play again.

Yes, I find dollhouse play to be an extraordinary window into what is on a child's mind.

I don't think I am alone in this thinking. All of the classes at my private, cooperative preschool had dollhouses. My colleagues and I would frequently write down the conversations we overheard in the dollhouse and share them with the child's family. Sometimes we would continue discussions at circle time that had begun in the dollhouse - discussions about sharing or missing Mommy or other social-emotional concerns.

It dawned on me recently that I have yet to see a dollhouse in any of the public (city) preschool classes that I have visited this year.

Why?

What does this mean?

Is this important?

Where is the dollhouse?

What do we want education to be?

Public school teachers, schools, and budgets are in the bull's eye right now, the target of unreasonable wrath. Let's shift the discussion.

Tell me, what problems do you imagine today's children will face when they grow up? What kinds of things will they need to figure out? To solve?

Think about this for a moment.

Now consider, as communities, parents, teachers,
What do we want to nurture in our children? What skills will they need?

I've asked these questions at a variety of workshops and classes with educators. The adults quickly brainstorm:

Curiosity
The ability to see many sides of issue
Kindness and compassion
An awareness of outside world
Determination
Communication
Respect for everyone
Inventiveness
Flexibility
Creativity
A fresh outlook
Honesty
Responsibility
Imagination
Considering something from multiple directions
Independence
Risk-taking
Self-confidence
Perseverance

These skills come from a diversity of learning experiences – curriculum that is not “scripted," pre-packaged, identical in every classroom. These skills are nurtured by teachers who are fascinated by each child individually, and who go home at night, unable to stop thinking about the children in their class. Teaching requires daily reflection, daily accounting, daily flexibility – What went right today? Why didn’t that work? What might I try? Teachers are skilled at looking for signs of struggle and helping a child work through these; they are skilled at recognizing the different and important achievements of each of their students.

Such teachers are encouraged by their communities and leaders.

I am so thankful for the leadership of Joanne Busalacchi, a.k.a. "Ms. B," Principal of New Hampshire Estates Elementary School in Silver Spring, Maryland, where my children went to school in the 1990s. She respected and involved teachers, parents, and community in her school. This was a Title One school, with some 85% poverty level. Ms. B embraced the economic and cultural diversity of her school, recognized it as a gift, and celebrated it. I have no doubt that she went home every day, awash in reflection, thinking - What didn't work today? What might I try tomorrow? Consider these snapshots -

- Ms. B at the front door of the school, saying hello to each child by name, as they arrived for school each morning;
- Ms. B taking her staff around the community on a school bus, to meet the children during the summer;
- Ms. B singling out parents and community members with "more" (whether it be time, talent, or money) and asking them to do more for the school.

There were so many signs of the community coming together as one -

- parents visiting and volunteering at the school throughout the day, in a variety of ways,
- local police officers eating lunch with the students in the cafeteria,
- mobile Health Clinics and mobile Public Libraries parked out front at the school, for families and community;
- a vibrant Parent-Child Center in one of the classrooms for those of us with children too young to be enrolled, filled with play activities and parenting advice;

- PTA meetings that met not just at 7pm “white-collar” time but Saturday mornings and unusual times mid-week;
- all community meetings translated into Spanish, Vietnamese, and other languages; and
- a variety of special nights every month, for children and their families, to celebrate learning - math game nights, international nights, Young Author nights.

Ms. B treated her public school like it was the heart of the community - and it was.

She was a staunch advocate for children. She rallied the staff to come together as one, to be respectful. A former parent remembers hearing Ms. B assert to her staff, "There is entirely too much yelling around here. We will not yell at children. Let's talk about this." Her staff was inspired and motivated - one teacher told me that Ms. B never told the staff how to do something, she “moved them towards the light,” and gave them both independence and responsibility. She did the same thing with parents. And this positivism, flexibility, and determination trickled down to the children.

This is exactly what we say we want for our children: for them to have independence, flexibility, responsibility, perseverance, determination.

It seems to me, we cultivate these skills in our children by being this way in our adult daily lives - in the way we interact with each other, in the way we solve today's problems. We must model this. Just as Ms. B and her staff modeled it.

Public school teachers and schools are in the bull's eye right now, the target of unreasonable wrath. Let's shift the discussion.

Teachers, parents, community, leaders – we have such an important role in making a bright future possible for our children. There is no one way. Those of us in the trenches – because we have children in school, or because we are teaching in schools, or because we are visiting schools - we need to speak up and repeat, repeat, repeat:

We are building our future.
Public education is the foundation of our country, the cornerstone of what will come.
We want our schools to continue to be filled with energized, knowledgeable, dedicated, caring, and respected professionals.
Our children deserve no less.

How can we ensure that Ms. B's kind of excellence is the norm of our public schools?
How can we ensure that teachers have the flexibility and autonomy to think about the needs and gifts of the individual child?
How can we ensure that families, even in the toughest circumstances, are welcomed, supported, and elevated by their child's school?

Let’s change the way we talk about teachers and public education.
Let’s envision together.
What do we want education to be?

Moments that linger

I've been blogging for almost a year now, enjoying it very much. As you can probably tell, I try to make at least one blog entry a week. Some weeks I do better than that, some weeks (like this past one) it doesn't even happen. But, as I suspect is true for most of us who work with children, each day is filled with moments that are meaningful and important...regardless of whether they are put into print.

The past many days have been very full indeed and I have been searching for which moment to spotlight here in this blog. And then it dawned on me - why not share several? This is the reality of being with young children - it is a whirlwind of small but powerful moments.

Consider these moments that linger...

- Sitting at a table with several 3 year olds, working on shape puzzles, when several friends wander off to new classroom pursuits and I find myself alone with one young boy who is focused on solving these. He completes another model and then notices that all the shapes on the table are available for him to use. He gathers them into one big pile, much like King Midas, and begins spontaneously to search for each and every circle piece - creating a long line of circle pieces across the table. I, to test him, offer him a diamond piece, and he shakes his head in seriousness and says, "No, just circles," but then he reconsiders, "Hey, let me see that!" And next to his line of circles, he begins to create a new pattern, using nothing but diamond pieces. "Help me," he says, "We must find all these diamonds!" This is why I work with children - I love watching them think, I love being present as the world opens up to them. (Oh, but where is my camera!?)

- Starting my day with a group of 4 year olds, when a little girl comes up to the teacher and laughs, "I whip my hair back and forth!" The teacher laughs in delight and says to her, "Good morning to you, too! Ask Ms. Ingram if she knows this song, you must share it with her." The little girl sings it to me, all the while shaking her hair. She adds, "There is a video!" and I tell her, "This song is new to me. I will look it up on my computer when I get home and I will think of you." That evening, I find this song video by Willow Smith, and I think not only of the 4 year old but of her incredible teacher, embracing this child's connection to home, seeing her sharing as a positive greeting, not dismissing it or ignoring it. I marvel at teachers who embrace children's interests, knowing that these are the foundation for the very best learning.



- In the block corner, I am relaxed and stretched out on the floor, alongside several children working on their masterpieces. A child that I have never met before sees me and an open invitation: quite unexpectedly, he throws himself on top of me, laughing at his surprise attack. "Well! hello!," I say and I give him a quick hug. Children don't hold back, do they? I love how real and "in the moment" children are.

- Two four year old boys, two different classrooms. Both so similarly sad, both with thumb in mouth, tearful; both dragging behind their classmates as they walk down the hall, or as they gather at the carpet. Everything is hard for them today, they don't want to participate, they can't seem to follow the routine. And the two teachers, unknown to one another, miles apart in their schools, both said to me, I am wondering what is up with him; I need to talk to his family about whether this sadness is true at home, too; have they seen this? I wonder if school is feeling too hard right now? And why? I wonder if he needs more tasks to do independently, away from the crowd of classmates? Both of these teachers are so similarly aware of their little ones' behaviors, carefully observing and considering, seeing themselves as the problem-solvers, the child interpreters, that they are. I am filled with hope about our educators.

- It's the end of the day, and a teacher reports to a grandmother that her 4 year old granddaughter had a rather rough day, having many tears. (The teacher had earlier told me that this child's parents are newly separated, getting a divorce.) The grandmother stoops down to the child's level and says, oh so severely, "Don't you EVER let me hear of you crying in school! You have GOT NOTHING to cry about young lady! If you need something to cry about, I have it for you. But you are too big for crying. And don't let me hear about you having to be held by the teacher - you are too big for that. You hear me?" I am stung by her cruel response. I think about the enormous work of teachers - working with young children and their families - the tense, concentrated work one must do, negotiating a minefield of varying beliefs and approaches about children, learning how and when to assert yourself, always advocating for the children.



- It is evening. I am working with new teachers, sharing my engineering curriculum. Using recyclables, they are building houses for the three little pigs, hoping to make one that is strong enough to prevent the wolf from knocking it over. (The wolf is my blow dryer!) I see one of the teachers blow on her house, to test it herself, before calling me over. I laugh with delight - yes, we need teachers like this teaching our young children - able to become thoroughly engaged with the work, to be playful and curious.

- A message from NAEYC in my email inbox, reminding me about the ongoing on-line event for the new release of the Anti-Bias Education by Louise Derman-Sparks and Julie Olsen Edwards. I am moved by their opening quote, "Early childhood teachers want each child in their care to feel powerful and competent. They strive to welcome every child and to show respect to each family as best they know how. However, beyond individual teachers’ hopes, beliefs, and actions is a society that has built advantage and disadvantage into our many institutions and systems. Inequity of resources in society, and the biases we use to justify that inequity, have an enormous impact on children’s lives." The on-line discussion is full of concerned questions and thoughtful responses; I am in awe of the numerous, dedicated educators who are striving to eliminate prejudice and inequity in their classrooms, in our world.

These are the moments that linger for me this week...some sad, many beautiful, all very rich experiences. I am so thrilled to work with both children and their teachers.

New teacher challenges

It's the beginning of a new school year! Another year of hopes, dreams, exploration, and learning....

I have a thrilling new job; I am working as a mentor to several first-year preschool teachers in D.C. These new teachers are filled with ideas and excitement; they have been working tirelessly in their rooms, rearranging and organizing, surrounded by newness - new bins, library books, laminated signs and posters, curriculum books and ideas. They are excited to be a part of a dedicated and energetic staff of educators, working to provide a vibrant and rigorous education to D.C. children. They are ready and imagining what the next week will be like - welcoming and connecting with the children, helping them transition into school, channeling their behavior, encouraging their learning, observing, and reflecting. There is so much to understand so quickly!

It's the beginning of a new school year! Another year of hopes, dreams, exploration, and learning....

I visit one new teacher at a school only about 15 miles from the preschool where I have taught for the past many years.

We are standing in her new classroom, helping her to ready the room. Her room is on the main floor of a building, adjacent to a parking lot. There is lots of construction outside her windows. She is having trouble raising and lowering her blinds, they seem a little faulty, askew; she suggests,

"I'm thinking of just leaving them up, to let in all this light. This light is so great. I would love to have it in the classroom. Do you think the children will be distracted by the construction?"

"I love the light, too. I think it would be interesting to see if the children are distracted," I start to say.

But a matter-of-fact voice speaks up - a respected, experienced staff person at the school, who has also been helping the new teacher set up her room. She says:

"Oh, it's not about the construction. You have to have the blinds two-thirds down at all times. See, across the parking lot - just next to you? - that housing? S.W.A.T. teams come there regularly. This is about drugs. When they come, you have to close the blinds, to avert the children's attention. Of course, many of the children come from that housing, but they are often numb to these emergencies. You can keep the blinds open most of the time, but you must be ready to close them when a situation happens."

The new teacher and I look at each other, with our eyes wide open.

It's the beginning of a new school year! Another year of hopes, dreams, exploration, and learning....

What a book!

I just read the most fantastic book: Whatever it Takes: Geoffrey Canada's Quest to Change Harlem and America by Paul Tough, an editor at the New York Times Magazine.

Paul Tough spent five years shadowing Geoffrey Canada, creator and visionary of the Harlem Children's Zone. The book details Mr. Canada's extraordinary efforts to stop the cycle of poverty.

Geoffrey Canada truly tries to do "whatever it takes" to break the cycle of poverty for all the children, all the families in Harlem. He draws from exhaustive research into theories and practices about poverty, education, and professional success. He consults a variety of sources - academics, child psychologists, social services, neurologists, and corporate executives. He is determined to find out:

...what specific resources did middle-class children have that allowed them to succeed at such higher rates than poor children? What skills did poor children need to help them compete? And, most important, what kind of intervention in their lives or in their parents' lives could help them acquire those skills? (p. 39)

Here's one example of what Mr. Canada found as he looked into the differences between middle-class and poor families:

Regarding research by Betty Hart and Todd R. Riley, child psychologists at the University of Kansas, studying the intellectual development of young children:

"By comparing the children's vocabulary scores with their own observations of each child's home life, they were able to conclude that the size of each child's vocabulary correlated most closely to one simple factor: the number of words the parents spoke to the child....

...some 481 "utterances" an hour in professional homes and some 178 in welfare homes...

What's more the kind of words and statements that children heard varied by class. The most basic difference was in the number of "discouragements" a child heard - prohibitions and words of disapproval - compared to the number of encouragements, or words of praise and approval. By age 3, the average professional child would hear about 500,000 encouragements and 80,000 discouragements. For the welfare child, the ratio was the reverse - 80,000 encouragements and 200,000 discouragements."

Geoffrey Canada decided - let's teach poor families to talk to their children. Let's teach them HOW to talk. Let's teach them about positive discipline. Let's give young parents good information, support, and guidance. Geoffrey Canada recognized that the best programs never stop - they take a child from birth to college, ensuring success. He recognized the limits of so many social welfare efforts that end up being only a brief stop in a child's journey - when the program ends, the child regresses back into the negative situation he/she was once striving to leave. Mr. Canada envisioned an all-encompassing support system, and, at the time of the book's publication, he had already created:

- a "Baby College," for new and expecting parents to learn the basics of healthy parenting and discipline,
- a "Three Year Old Journey" program, for parents of young children, that builds on this;
- The Promise Academy, a rigorous preschool, elementary, and middle school for students; and
- after-school and weekend programs (creative arts, sports, enrichment, and intensive academic support) for students.

The book was published in 2008; it is highly possible that Geoffrey Canada now has the high school to college portion of his vision in place. I need to look into this! Each of these Harlem Children's Zone efforts is provided free to participants. Geoffrey Canada is a remarkable spokesperson for his vision - his nonprofit has support from a variety of philanthropists and public donations. The cost of the programs is considerable; however, the cost of not doing them seems exponential.


I am profoundly sad at how many barriers stand in the way of many of our children. Paul Tough provides many painful and honest anecdotes of the challenges poor families endure. As an example, early in the book, there is a lottery system for spots in the new school being created by the Harlem Children's Zone, and you can't help but feel uncomfortable at the realization that many needy families will not get one of the coveted slots. It is painfully clear - we need a systemic approach, for one and all. It can't be just for certain ages, or just hit or miss, luck of the draw - you get to succeed, but I don't. Geoffrey Canada's Harlem Children Zone is remarkable in its all-inclusive approach to helping children live successful lives.

This is a truly inspirational book.