COVID 19 - What is there to savor?

Here we are in the middle of week eight of shelter-in-place. I am finding that my phone calls with preschoolers and families are taking a little longer than they did those first few weeks...perhaps we are all seeking a deeper connection?

Truly, we seem to have shifted from
fearful and overwhelmed
into
acceptance tinged with sadness,
open to joy.
This is our life now.

These preschoolers - honestly, what a gift they are to the world! My prescription for sanity in this time: reach out and converse with a young child. Build that connection. Prepare for a journey somewhere magical! What do I mean? Let me share a few [anonymous] tidbits from my families' worlds:

- dragging t-ball equipment to a local school's baseball field and playing an impromptu game of baseball with your family,
- building a marble run on your wall, using cardboard rolls,
- using found objects and magnetic numerals and exploring math with Dad,
- putting on lipstick and having a fashion competition with your whole family,
- celebrating the find of insect larvae in a rotted tree stump, on a family nature walk
- building a hiding place for stuffed animals and Mom's high heels,
- whole family re-enactments of favorite picture books,
- driving to the airport (which is empty, of course) to have lunch; sitting in the bay windows, looking at airplanes and other transportation,
- building boats with your family, to float in the wading pool, and testing them in different ways.

It's obvious that families are becoming very creative, playing deeply with their kids. One preschooler was excited to tell me how they burnt a batch of chocolate chip cookies, and cut off the burnt edges, "I eat them but not the burned part, some parts are not burnt."

That beautifully describes this time of COVID-19 - it is possible to find something to savor. We must look for joy.

"some parts are not burnt"

sol17-20 Are we listening?

I am participating in the
Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day of March 2017. 

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity
for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

Near the end of a day, when many children had been picked up, and the room was growing quieter and only a few children remained, she came to me and said, "Ms. Ingram, I have a song I want to share." "A song?" I asked, "Oh please do!" She began solemnly, "I have a song about Rapunzel. There's no sorceress, only a bad guy and the bad guy, he..." I realized immediately, this was not a song, certainly not a typical song, but a story, a sharing, an outpouring of words that this little preschooler was simply bursting to offer. I got out my pen and wrote her offering down.

I love that she called it a song. 

I love that she knew I would want to capture it, that I would write it down and read it back to her.

I love that I have created the space for such sharing to happen.

I worry that I am not hearing everyone's stories.

I worry that my days get too busy, that I have too many to do's.

I worry that one day someone will say, "excuse me, that child is not focused on what is in your lesson plan for this part of the day." 

Well, I don't really worry about this happening to me, because I would no longer be teaching if that were the expectation. But, honestly - it is happening in classrooms. Yes, even in the preschool classroom, there is an ever-increasing burden for writing detailed lesson plans, noting each and every standard or objective you will teach. 

I worry about novice, less-experienced teachers who bow to administrations that ask this of them, who faithfully expend hours making the minute and predictive details of curriculum planning and who teach to these plans, but have not the time to observe, or reflect on, or to be truly present with their students. If the expectation is on the paperwork, the forms, the "shell" of teaching, how do teachers learn to focus on the individual student, to create a classroom that builds on children's own interests, and where children are curious, investigating, moving, conversing, trying, questioning, wondering?  

This little girl and her story song - these are opportunities woven like a golden yet invisible thread into the fabric of my planning. You won't find them listed anywhere in my plans. These moments are when I feel my teaching is at its best: children who have been so riveted by books, so engaged by their play, so delighted by dramatizing stories, so lost in their learning, that they must, simply must, tell you all about it. 

We teachers must be there to listen.

Isn't this what children deserve? 

sol17-15 How can I learn more about that?

I am participating in the
Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day of March 2017. 

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

I have been participating in an on-line 30-day exercise challenge, thanks to the prodding of a very dear niece...and I am amused by my warmup routine. Yes, I begin each workout with a Google search of all the exercises I don't know followed by viewing Youtube video clips of how to do them. Here's just a sampling of the exercises I've had to investigate:

• bear hug side plank
• burpees
• mountain climbers
• Russian twists
• tricep dips with leg raise
• holloman to knee crunches
• plank jacks
• chaturanga push-ups
• lateral skater jumps
• heismans
• Brazilian lunges
• curtsy squats

Don't you think I should be in amazing shape, just because I know what these are now? Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. Practice, practice, practice.

I feel energized when I am "getting smart" about something new, much like an adventurer in new terrain. This positive feeling was the silver lining to my son's autoimmune disease - finding out everything I could possibly know, comparing different sources, learning what to question and what to accept as truth. It is the adrenaline boost for preparing for vacations, especially travel abroad - reading about the location, investigating sightseeing possibilities, and compiling lists of to do's. It is the 'piece de resistance' of my teaching - looking up new techniques, reading about others' experiences, getting background information, considering another perspective.

It is remarkable how essential the internet is to research and how quickly you can access the information you need. It wasn't so long ago that research necessitated a physical visit to the library. It wasn't so long ago when the big questions involved looking at microfiche (and I'm nerdy enough to have loved this level of fact-finding). It wasn't so long ago that if new questions arose or there was something additional to include, you needed to buy new typing paper and begin all over again. Truly, it is extraordinary what information is available right at our fingertips, within mere seconds.

It certainly makes my workouts easier!

Tuesday SOL: What have we done?

This is a Tuesday
Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day. 

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

We step forward into something new, and then we take a few steps back.

For the first many days, there was a open sensory table filled with sand and gems.
Joy,
delight,
exploration,
happy children.
Then it changed.
In a split second, a chaotic moment, a flash.
Children crowded together, struggling to share;
sand spewed, onto the floor, into eyes, into hair;
children were pushing, hurting, crying.

I closed the table and put a big red stop sign on the table.

Immediately, children dispersed, moved away, played elsewhere. It struck me that the children were use to 'losing privileges'. This was no big deal. Simply, move onto the next thing. This is daily life in an adult-run world.

Here's the reality - there is tremendous efficiency in an adult-run world.
I could take the sand out of the table, deciding that these children are too young and irresponsible to use it.
I could limit the table to just one or two kids, and make clean up much easier.
I could make a list of students, and assign them specific times to use the table.
I could make rules for the kids.
I could decide that I know best.

How deep is the learning if you simply have to turn to an adult to find out what to do?

The next morning, the table remained closed and the big red stop sign was firmly in place.

Children noticed.

One child tried to tear off the sign and lift the table top, to get to the sand again.
I moved over to him, crouching down, helping him to notice. "Oh my, look - a stop sign. What does this mean? What happened? Why would the table be closed?"

He made the connection. He said, "I threw sand."

The table remained closed and he helped me add more tape to the big red stop sign.

At morning meeting, I invited the whole class to recall what had happened at the sand table the day before -

"I got sand in my eyes."
"I got sand in my hair."
"She put sand on her."
"He took all the sand."
"I was being nice."
"You shouldn't throw sand!"
"Sand went on the floor."
"We had to sweep it up."

Yes, they had noticed.

I wrote the children's thoughts down on our white board in the front of the class. I shared their words with families. I told the children that we should hold on to these thoughts for another day or so, and to be thinking,

How can we play with sand?
How can we be together at the table?
What must we do?

Stay tuned!

I hope, through this noticing, we are moving towards real learning.

I am seeing that learning is many, many small and observant steps.

Tuesday SOL: Project Zero - not your ordinary summer professional development

This is a Tuesday
Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day. 

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

I spent last week at WISSIT, Washington International School's Summer Institute: Connecting DC Educators with Project Zero Ideas. The following quote is taken directly from WISSIT's promotional literature about the institute and provides a good summation of this thought-provoking week:

The institute invites educators to reflect deeply on how they design and facilitate enriching, rigorous learning opportunities for their students. A “Day at the Museums” on Wednesday, August 3, will highlight the ways educators can use museums as powerful sites for learning. The week-long experience includes both large and small group sessions, each addressing the following strands:

• Building a Culture of Thinking: How do we help learners develop dispositions that support thoughtful learning across school subjects? How do we effectively create a culture of thinking, in classrooms and school-wide?

• Educating for Global Competence: How do learners demonstrate global competence? How do educators ensure that learners in their charge explore complex issues of global significance through multiple perspectives?

My head is full from all the rich learning I experienced and I am very excited about the school year ahead. In the spirit of wonder, I thought it would be fun to share my reflections through questions. 

How do we build a culture of thinking?

How do we grow the learning?

How do we slow down and allow children to dig deeper?

What will we notice if we slow things down?

What language do we use to encourage thinking?

What if we routinely asked, How do you think we might? What might be some possible solutions?

What makes you think so? What do you see?

What subtle shifts can I make in my language to have the mind be more open?

Am I rescuing children or encouraging initiative?

How long do I give children to respond before I jump in?

When do adults listen to children?

Who is doing the thinking? 

What if classroom discussions were more collaborative?

What is the possibility of giving children something new and meaningful?

What is a powerful learning opportunity?

What is the purpose of the work we ask of children?

When do children get the opportunity to listen to one another? to try other approaches? to make sense of something?
What is an effective listener?

How do children learn?

What is the difference between doing a whole lot of work and having a lot of learning?

What happens when you align beliefs with actions?

What if we started with student's passions and questions and built our curriculum from there?

How do we provide opportunities for children to struggle, to grapple, to figure something out?

How are children being pushed?

How are children expected to extend their learning?

What happens when children have the habit of communicating their thinking?

What does it mean to be a citizen?

How do we prepare children to be globally competent?

Why is it important to consider varied perspectives?

What does perspective-taking feel like?

What if we invited children to be in conversation with one another?

What if we teach children to reflect on their assumptions?

What is the untold story?

How do we share the other story?

How much risk do we take in teaching?

What are we modeling for students?

When do teachers take the learner's stance?

What do we focus on when we observe classrooms?

What learning is visible?

Where do we see learning taking place?

What if we slowed down and noticed the details?

What if we did reflection instead of assessment?

What is my image of the child?

How will my teaching grow and change this year?
Where will this thinking lead me?

What is my take-away?
What are my next steps?
What if I start small?

SOLSC 2015 #19: Should I help you?

Each day during March, I am participating in the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC). 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 lots more reflections on teaching. Thanks especially to Stacey, Tara, Anna, Beth, Dana, and Betsy for hosting this writing challenge. 

*******

How much help or assistance to give a child?

How do you know when you are doing too much?

When do you let a child figure something on their own?

How do we help them feel comfortable about striving, about the struggle?

What does struggle look and feel like, in a child?

Preschoolers beg me each day to hold their hands while they walk along our playground's balance beam. Often, I do, knowing it gives me an opportunity to have a conversation, one-on-one, with a child, an opportunity to build our relationship. 

But today I began to wonder if I was 'enabling' them, keeping them dependent on an adult's help on this playground equipment.

I playfully announced - "Hear ye, hear ye! Today is a big day! Everyone gets to do the balance beam on their own! While learning, they may wobble, they may fall onto the mulch, they may struggle - but everyone will have fun, doing it their way! Hear ye! Hear ye!"

They had a blast, falling and trying, trying and falling. Laughing together, lots. And then, simply walking along the beam.

Terrific!