SOLSC #17 What if I ramble today?

I am participating in the
March 2018 Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day for thirty-one days.

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

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

It's mid-month in this blogging challenge and I am so aware of how my slicing ideas are so totally bereft. Time, too, is ridiculously precious - this must be the craziest March since I began participating in the challenge seven years ago. No time and no ideas do not a good slice make! Ha! Yesterday's post was written on the fly, a "place holder" simply posted to ensure I was making a post for the day, and then I quickly squeezed in time to comment on three others. (The good news is...no one commented on my post yesterday - ha, my goal of invisibility for that particular post was achieved!!) My hope is that I am absolutely alone in this sad type of blogging, however I suspect that this rudderless, pointless, 'meh' kind of writing hits everyone at some point, and, goodness knows, writing for 31 days in a row shines a real focused light on the deprivation.

Write on.  

Today, Saturday, looms quiet and I thought I'd just ramble onto this page and see what emerges. 

I am thinking about beginning teachers, novice teachers, first year in the classroom public school teachers. Whew. My school is a residency school for a teaching alternative certification program, meaning we have maybe a dozen Teaching Residents working alongside lead teachers; next year, these "emerging teachers" will be the teacher of record in their own classrooms in other schools in the city - i.e., first year public school teachers. I've been working with Teaching Residents for eight years, working alongside them in my preschool classroom. I feel "intellectually" aware and savvy of pretty much all things new early childhood teachers experience.

Two years ago, my son became a Teaching Resident (not at my school!!) and he is now, much to my amazement and delight, a first year teacher in a public school - unbelievably, he is teaching prek-3, just like me.

Some days I just want to pinch myself! How can my life's joy and passion be the same as that of my child's?

It's pretty amazing.

But then, of course, there's the dark side. As I said, I feel "intellectually" aware and savvy of pretty much all things new early childhood teachers experience...now, I am emotionally aware of everything that these teachers experience. I am watching my baby (oh, he would hate that I am writing that - thus, I will not name my son ;-)...I am watching my baby work so very, very hard...practice, practice, try, fail, do-over, try again, practice, success!, strive, dare, practice, practice, mis-step, mis-step, practice, practice, success!, setback, reconsider, practice, practice, practice, triumph!, practice, practice, practice...every day is filled with new stories, many joyful, many stressful, all truly normal in the development of a [dare I say "great"? is it possible to brag about the future?] teacher. Thankfully, he works in a very positive school environment, one that truly cultivates teachers - coaching, mentoring, and leading them into expertise. I see him becoming the reflective, creative, and joyful teacher that I would love children to have...

but, wow, teaching is hard work! 

Teaching as a first year teacher is excruciatingly hard at times. 

Being a parent of a first year teacher is a pretty wild ride.

Honestly, I can feel myself aging this school year!

SOLSC #7: What does a new teacher need to learn?

I am participating in the
March 2018 Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day for thirty-one days.

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

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

My school is a Teaching Residency school, where most classrooms are led by a lead teacher (or "master teacher," not a term I'm particularly excited about) and a Teaching Resident (a novice teacher). Teaching Residents work alongside their leads for an entire school year, while simultaneously taking evening classes towards their Masters in Teaching, and then they move on to be the "teacher of record" in a classroom of their very own next year. It is an intensive process! A couple times during the school year, we have "Resident swaps," where we assign Residents to work in a different age classroom, so that they might have some exposure to a different grade level. We are a community of teacher learners, so it is good to mix things up and hear everyone's reflections afterwards.

This week, we had a Resident from the kindergarten classroom come to our classroom for the day and my Resident went to the kindergarten classroom. I explained the "teacher swap" to the preschoolers, and I asked them - What should we teach Mr. Smith [the Teaching Resident who was visiting our room for the day]? Without a moment's hesitation, they rattled off the following possibilities:

- karate
- how to make jewelry
- how to stretch
- the song, "Three Little Birds"
- how to do gymnastics
- how to make play dough
- arts and crafts
- how to make gak

It is delightful to me that this is their school world - nothing but fun, fun, fun! We had a great time with Mr. Smith and I think he enjoyed his day with us immensely. 

Tuesday SOL: Just how?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

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

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

I am a teacher of teachers and it is tongue-twisting,
mind-bending,
metacognitive work.

This is a poetic attempt to describe this work at the beginning of the school year.

Just How

just how

do I know what to say in the moment?

just how

do I hold a mirror to the effect of her actions?

just how

do I help him to see from the student's perspective?

just how

do I discern what is the most essential thing to notice, to give feedback on?

just how

do I encourage her to see the power of her innate tools of voice, emotion, timing, and even physical presence?

just how

do I decide if this is important enough to mention?

just how

do I see the right and the possible in the midst of missteps?

just how

do I move him from simply being alongside a child to fostering the child's ability to play with peers, learn new routines, explore new things?

just how

do I help her see that she can be with more than one child?

just how

do I help him to react with a developmental lens rather than moral authority?

just how

do I give feedback in the moment, while keeping the classroom moving right along?

just how

do I encourage them not to give up, but to see the process and growth of their own learning?

just how

do I say just the right thing?

Tuesday SOL When to walk away?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

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

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

One particular child has been giving my Teaching Resident a "run for her money." This little friend has decided that he will not participate in our daily ritual clean up of the classroom. When Sweet Honey in the Rock sings their delightful cue for everyone to stop playing and instead put things away, this preschooler makes a tighter grip on the toys in his hand and scoots under one of our classroom tables to hide. 

If you weren't responsible for all these preschoolers, if you weren't hoping to get the room cleared so that the day could continue with lunch and nap, maybe if you were simply there as a spectator to observe children's different approaches to clean up, I suppose you might find his antics pretty hilarious. However, the Teaching Resident does feel responsible for all these preschoolers. She has been openly wondering, How can I motivate him? What motivates him? What is so difficult about clean up? Shouldn't preschoolers be expected to help clean up their own things? Isn't following through on routine an important skill? 

As soon as the music starts, he hides under the table. The Teaching Resident has tried so many different tactics - 

taking him aside at the outset of the day and calmly stating expectations for clean up [he assures her that 'no, he will not clean']; 

taking him out from under the table and trying to guide him through the clean up, with teacher as his partner [he cries throughout the process]; 

giving him a partner to clean with [he folds his arm and continues to refuse - once, the partner joined him under the table to hide!]; 

giving him a heads up for the clean up, a gentle warning, so that he might complete his playing before cleaning [this just made him go under the table earlier]; and, of course, 

talking to his family about this recalcitrance [as the baby of the family, cleaning up one's things isn't a big expectation at home].

This little preschooler is the Teaching Resident's best teacher. He is "Exhibit A," illustrating the art of teaching - there is no one script to follow in guiding students, nothing you teach will ever go 'perfectly,' and it is essential to build good connections with each student. 

When the Teaching Resident asked for my advice about this little stinker, she shared how she finds herself thinking about him in the evenings, frustrated at her inability to figure this out. I think it is really terrific that she wrestles with this. I complimented her on how many different tactics she has tried. She has taken time to reflect, to look at it from different perspectives. He is telling us that he really, really, really doesn't want to do something. 

I believe - when we go head-to-head with a child, I think we have already lost. For whatever reason, he has dug his heels in about this expectation. Digging one's heels is the most power a preschooler ever has. I suggested a moratorium on the expectation of clean up for this one child. Yes. What if we simply ignore the challenging behavior and work on building a strong connection with him? What would happen if we let go of this specific expectation (wordlessly, without any fanfare) and engaged with him in more positive ways, for example working and playing beside him, asking questions, having conversation, being joyful? Dare to let it go. 

What will we notice? 

Reminds me of Kenny Rogers' song "The Gambler,"

You've got to know when to hold 'em

Know when to fold 'em

Know when to walk away

And know when to run.

Tuesday SOL: What about critique?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

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

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

I feel a lot of compassion for novice teachers.
I know they must wonder -
At what point is teaching done? 
adequate? 
fine? 
At what point have I done everything perfectly?

It is May and my Teaching Resident is leading the classroom. The more she leads, the more feedback she receives. I know she is at that uncomfortable place of trying to please everyone - master teacher (me!), mentor, colleagues, principal, graduate school, on and on...and let's not forget the students.

Let's just be real - you can critique E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

How might you speed up the pace?

How might you slow it down?

Why didn't the children have more voice?

(Or conversely - the children are talking too much - How might you teach children to listen?)
What behavior management challenges are you having?
How might you change your approach with that student?
What was the teaching objective?
How do you know the students achieved this? 

What might be a more developmentally appropriate approach?
How might you make transitions more efficient?
What else is happening in the classroom while you are in small group?
Was everyone engaged? Why or why not?
How might you engage all the children?
Why did you include that?
Did you notice such-and-such?

Everyone has questions, everyone has commentary, everyone has their perspective on how things should be. Often, these ideas are contradictory. Who is right?

I don't believe you ever reach perfection in teaching. There is always room for change, modification, improvement.

Perhaps the very best student teaching experience 

helps you grow into that place where 

you seek advice from others 

while simultaneously

listening to yourself, 

trusting your instincts, 

being aware of and working on your deficits, 

daring to teach as you feel is right, and

humbling yourself for a do over.

sol17-29 Isn't teaching easy?

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.

My Teaching Resident is working as our classroom lead this week, and she will take the lead more and more over the remaining weeks in the school year. This is always a hard and amazing time of year for me, as I struggle to step back, intervene, or fix situations, and, simultaneously, I watch the Teaching Resident grow before my eyes. Yes, hard and amazing. Our "transfer of power" is not understood by the children - or, actually, maybe it is immediately understood. It seems that the Teaching Resident's voice doesn't carry as much authority. The children find the small openings in her directions and expectations, and act in ways I have never experienced before. For a novice teacher, these new, unexpected behaviors are challenging and constant work.

There's something about this time of year - when the Teaching Resident is leading - that always reminds me of the first six weeks of school. Today, things fell apart at clean up. Clean up! A routine that has been in place since day one...without a doubt, the children KNOW this routine. Oh my, did things fall apart. There was running. There was a just a wee bit of throwing. There was lots of disinterest, identified by children who sidled away from the work, hung out in one's cubby - avoiding. But the piece de resistance was the tantrums - three absolutely amazing loud, screaming tantrums, one feeding off another, bringing the room to such a level of discord...all because these three children did not want to stop playing. Wow.

What was super impressive: my Teaching Resident stopped the clean up music and had everyone breathe in/breathe out. It took several minutes, but calm came back. (It helped immeasurably that I slipped two of the hysterical children for breaks in other rooms - there's no conversing with someone who is having a tantrum; save your conversation for when they are calmer.) Somehow we returned to cleaning, and then we went on with our day. Right afterwards, my Teaching Resident said - "Children, 1, Teacher, 0." It must have felt like she 'failed' or 'lost' - but, honestly, isn't this how we learn our best behavior management practices, having endured these tough situations?

Later, we reflected together. We talked about reading the room - what clues did we miss that things were going to fall apart? Are there things that should be slowed down? Would it help to pull certain children aside before clean up and speak to them in advance/prepare them for what happens next? Would it help to talk to the class and reflect on what went wrong? Repeat expectations? Problem-solve together? So much to think about, so many possibilities. Tomorrow is another day and it will be better!