SOLSC #23 And that's a wrap!

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.

Thought I'd share a moment from today. I really enjoyed how the children's block play grew organically, with very little input or prompting from me. I was able to sit back, observe, and take notes - the proverbial 'fly on the wall' - my favorite pastime in the preschool classroom. Let me share...

W wanted to make a house with a flat red roof. She worked with O, and continued to add pieces of different shapes and sizes. O decided it was no longer a house, but an apartment building. "A lot of people like this home," O said.

Then the focus was on the area around the house. Shouldn't there be a highway near the apartment building? "It's going to need sidewalks," C announced. More construction ensued. L suggested that the highway should have a bridge, with a road going under the highway. He became very excited at the way it was looking, declaring "We are building the whole world!" 

With this whole world in place, B wandered over and asked "Can I play family with these dollies?" Then the focus became all about the dolls [Duplo figurines]...how many could fit in the apartment building? How many would walk down the sidewalk? Maybe one or two would be on the bridge? M became very excited when she found two Duplo figurines that were identical - "Twins!! Look!!" O did not appreciate M's loud voice and reprimanded everyone with the words, "Everyone is supposed to be in bed right now!"

With preschoolers, it starts with blocks but it ends with family. Always.

This is my last slice of this March challenge...spring break has arrived and I'm off to Costa Rica in the morning, celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary! There are many more things I would have liked to write about, but I will save them for another time. I hope that everyone continues slicing and enjoys this last week of the writing challenge. I'll be back for the Tuesday Slice of Life in April. Enjoy!

What do you see in the cup?

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.

Observational drawing by Jada

It's spring and we have a cup of caterpillars in our preschool classroom! Just this past weekend, they formed chrysalises and the preschoolers are in awe. I've tried to slow down the thinking, having the preschoolers make observational drawings of what they see. (I will share a few of these here, in this blogpost.) I knew this was the perfect lesson for the "See Think Wonder" thinking routine, which I had learned from Project Zero training last summer. As they drew, I asked What do you see? I tried to keep the children focused on simply what was visible in the jar:

I see four chrysalises. I call 'em caterpillars. And the jar. And spider webs.

I see cobwebs, 'cause they make cobwebs, and cocoons.

I see cocoons.

I see this one and it has a black part.

I see cocoons playing.

Observational drawing by Misha

There is dirt on the bottom.

I see the bodies on the circle.

The caterpillars made cocoons and they are hanging up.

I see caterpillars walking and eating food. 

Caterpillars make cocoons.

Four cocoons.

Caterpillars have pointy things.

Cocoons hang from the sky. They are shaking.

I see a spiderweb.

Cocoons. They are shaking. Caterpillars make it.

I see cocoons.

Try as I liked to have them simply focus on what they saw - what they actually observed - the preschoolers couldn't help thinking and imagining. They shared thoughts aloud that were clearly not visible. I tried to return them to observation mode with a quick, What did you see that makes you think so? However, their musings multiplied and I let them answer - What do you think?

I think there was an egg.

I think caterpillars walk around and they sleep.

The cocoon is for the caterpillar

That might be food. They eat leaves.

Observational drawing by Audrey

Something's in it - maybe a butterfly.

They come from eggs, they turn into caterpillars, and then they turn into butterflies.

And push out into a butterfly!

It looks like fish; it is the same color. It looks like a Daddy Long Legs with its leg stuck in the web.

The caterpillars will turn into butterflies and then will fly.

I never even had to ask, What do you wonder? The preschoolers were mesmerized by the disappearance of crawling caterpillars and the arrival of four chrysalises hanging from the top of the jar. Their questions poured forth - 

Observational drawing by Henry

What are the webs for?

Are the caterpillars shaking the cocoons inside?

What let's it hang?

What is the gakky [sic] thing on the bottom?

Did the cocoon on the bottom die?

What do caterpillars eat? I wonder if they eat dirt?

Is it a spider web.

Are there new baby eggs in the jar?

What are the black fuzzy things on the bottom? Is it part of a caterpillar?

Why shouldn't we touch it?

Is the cocoon on the bottom eating the food?

Would the caterpillars be scared?

Observational drawing by Gabrielle

The most frequent wonder revolved around the movement of the chrysalises - these definitely appeared to be shaking, wiggling, moving. I loved this exchange between four students -

What is making them shake?

- Because they are shaking a lot of days.

- Caterpillars are playing in their house.

- Because they are trying to spread out their wings.

It is amazing how much language and thinking comes forth when preschoolers can watch this metamorphosis right up close!

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.

sol17-25 Should we expect 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 was once told during an observation,

"Some children left the table after only a short while, meaning that they were not engaged."

Does it?

Well, I suppose, it might. You could probably make a case for this...whatever was at the table wasn't interesting, or the teacher didn't engage the child, or...

However, I don't think how long a student stays in one place necessarily indicates that they are stimulated by the work.

Should preschoolers be expected to stay in one place, to engage in a center?

What if they think of something else they want to do, in addition to this?
If they reach a stopping point, do we respect them enough to let them slip away?
Isn't it possible that they will perhaps return to do more in this center later?
What does engagement look like at age 3 and 4?
Should teachers be insisting that children stay put, working in one place?
Is the value of an activity directly related to how many students do it and for how long?
Should teachers insist that every student participate in every activity?
What do preschoolers learn when they get to decide what interests them?

I have open centers, student choice. On the best of days, I have nearly 90 minutes of this time for preschoolers, with a range of things for them to do, investigate, play, explore, learn. This means, preschoolers move freely from and between block building, science investigations, art exploration, dramatic play, writing, and more. There are three teachers in the classroom and at least one is a "floater," moving about the room and observing closely; another teacher (or sometimes two) is anchored to an activity, guiding students in specific ways.

I believe preschoolers should have the right and the privilege to leave the table, move away from a center, try another activity. I believe, as much as possible, they should be able to choose their learning. I believe that this flexibility of choice is developmentally appropriate practice.

Certainly, my hope is that I have stimulated them with the activity that has been introduced.
Of course, I know some preschoolers who resist new things, and I work with these students a little more, helping them to stretch and try.

Simultaneously, I am trying to cultivate longer attention spans and the ability to keep at something, even if it gets hard or doesn't go the way you expect.
Even so, I believe it is possible to work on things over time and sometimes taking a break is just what is needed.

Hopefully, I am observant about each individual student, noticing what they do and reflecting on what they need.
Argumentatively, there are so many individual circumstances that could change all meaning of what just happened!

I guess you can tell that this line from my observation report didn't sit well with me!

I walk away from my writing a lot. I'll write something, wander off and wash dishes or run a load of laundry, perhaps even go teach for the day, and then return to my writing, read through it, write some more, revise, and maybe wander off again. 

Do we respect this flexibility and choice in our youngest learners ?

Tuesday SOL: What are they thinking about?

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.

This school year, invigorated by my awesome summer training about Project Zero (see earlier blogpost), I set a personal goal of observing and documenting children's thinking. What do I notice?

I feel my teaching changing. I find myself wondering - what are they thinking? I have added the expectation that children observe closely all that we are doing. We are recalling and reflecting more together. What do you see? What is the why behind what we are doing? What do you think it means? Have we seen or done this before?

I am trying very hard to make myself pause in the midst of my teaching, to think about their thinking. What are they trying to figure out? What is on their minds? I am noticing things that I have never paid attention to before. 

One recent morning during our centers exploration, two little boys chased each other with puzzle pieces. The puzzle pieces were rescue vehicles - an ambulance, a firetruck, a police car. Vroom! Vroom! Whoo whoo whoo! They raced around the room, acting these out.

What am I thinking at this very moment? No running! Stop that!
Switch gears. What are they thinking?
They are thinking about rescue vehicles! They are excited about these, acting them out.

Honestly, thinking about their thinking changed my reaction. I inserted myself into their play. I began building a large vehicle with blocks - I placed two chairs down first, and I started to create "sides" with blocks.  "What if we built an ambulance? Could we?" I called out to them. Oh, they were so excited. "Yes!" We were immediately swarmed by many other children. Everyone began furiously building - and, telling a story. I wrote down what I overheard. 

At Storytime, I shared the words I overheard and asked if there were any details I had left out.  What is the whole story of our adventure? The children were delighted that I had listened to them and they had lots more to add. I wrote all their thoughts down and repeated them back to them.

By the end of the children's nap, I had created a simple book of the day's adventure, entitled "Big Cats to the Rescue!" 

This is the story of the day's adventure:

One day in the Big Cats, we built a helicopter, police, firefighter, race car truck.

The police come for the bad guys. The firetruck puts out fires. Helicopter goes up and helps people. It was chasing bad guys. Big Cats to the rescue!  

It was going into space because a rocketship was stuck. The planets were sharp where the rocketship got stuck. The police were going to all the planets. The Earth planets were sideways.

We live on Earth. The Big Cats were helping. The Big Cats were saving all the people on the planet. 

The End.

Of course, I had the authors sign the book for me!

Slowly, slowly, slowly,
I am helping them see.

Slowly, slowly, slowly,
I am helping them take ownership. Find their own voice. Feel responsible.

Slowly, slowly, slowly,
I am cultivating independence, curiosity, thinking.


I hope "children's thinking" will become the focus of many blogposts.

SOLSC #9 Who dreamt this up?

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.

This is going to be an incredibly short slice.

May I simply share that I am exhausted?

Today, observers from the superintendent's office came to observe each of the four early childhood classrooms - that is, four observers, one for each room. Mine arrived at 8:15, when I was prepping for my day (students arrive at 8:30), and she left a little after 12 noon. 

Unbelievably exhausting experience.

What other profession experiences this?

Capturing a person's every word? 

Watching their every move? 

Seeing what is noticed? what is missed? 

Talk about pressure.

I simply don't get it. 

How did this become a norm for a classroom teacher?

I am exhausted.

SOLSC #5 How do you remember?

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.

I was observing her read-aloud, sitting on the carpet with the children, one preschooler cozy in my lap and my journal on my thigh, taking notes, to help her with her teaching. My plan was to capture what she said in addition to the book text - her questions, her explanations, and the ensuing conversations. My notes will be feedback for the beginning teacher, but, amusingly, there isn't much there to report - not because of the teacher, but because of my note-taking. First, I printed clearly the name of the child on my lap, because I felt his eyes penetrating my note-taking, and I was curious if he could read his name; he smiled at me, and I smiled back. Then, I began to write down the beginning teacher's questions. Moments into the read-aloud, I shifted my focus from the teacher to another student, a wily preschooler, and my notes tell what she was looking at, who she was disturbing, where she crawled over to, what she started playing with...I wondered, what engages this little girl? What is she thinking about? Then my notes abruptly turned into a tally of the chairs in my classroom - there was a special event in another room the evening before, and some of my chairs are missing, did we have enough chairs for everyone to sit down at lunch? My notes are like a dog on a walk, "squirrel! squirrel!", onto a new possibility every few moments.

I love my school journal - a simple notebook. I carry this notebook with me all the time, writing notes in it each day, taking it out of my backpack first thing each morning, setting goals for the day, carrying it as I work with children, alongside my small groups, in and out of meetings, jotting down ideas, keeping it at the ready to make reminders from administrators, families, colleagues, to remember something I observed, to capture that great quote of the child...on and on. Yes, it is a real mix of my school year, of my day, and, probably, a real mess to the untrained eye. (Anyone other than me!) It has been a gold mine for my blogging, for all my writing, helping me document in real time a myriad of interesting details.

I like to think that it helps me see everything more clearly. Funny how messy that clarity can look.

What are we wondering about?

Yesterday, I had the best of intentions of writing a "Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers." That didn't happen.

Let me add a post, one day late.

The autumn weather has been so inviting, I have been taking the children on neighborhood walks. I take them out in small groups during our centers time, and there's no end to the possibilities of exploration. We have gone looking for letters and numbers, particularly, reading signs. We have searched for colors - as seen in trees, leaves, flowers, sky, houses, signs, and more. We have searched for shapes, reinforcing our understanding of squares, circles, rectanges, and triangles. We think about maps and directions and which way is right or left. 

I love, love, love walking and talking and observing with children.

We often bring natural finds back to our classroom and add them to our sensory table, which in recent days has been showcasing nature items - seedpods, grass blooms, spent blossoms, leaves, feathers, more.  The children love using the tweezers, tongs, and magnifying glasses, here.

One of our early days out, we noticed the clouds in the sky. Extraordinary! Now, we don't leave school without our clipboards - so that we might sit and draw what we see. 

SOLSC #17 Observing teachers

I am posting every day during March as part of the annual "Slice of Life" Challenge for Two Writing Teachers.  Check out their website for lots more reflections on teaching.

*******

Here we go again, another snow day here in the Washington, D.C. area. I've lost track of how many days off we have had this year. I can't remember when we've had a full week of school, five days without something breaking it up -
professional days, holidays, snow days. It has been an unsettled year.

My spring observation was supposed to be this morning -
9:15 a.m., 45 minutes,
observing me in whole group and small group.

We are evaluated by "CLASS" and the observer is noting:

• the overall climate in the room, whether there is positive communication and respect between children, children and teachers, and teachers themselves;
• teacher's sensitivity, awareness, responsiveness to students and issues in the classroom;
• is there regard for student perspectives, student expression and individuality supported?
• what is the behavior management, is there proactive and redirection of misbehavior? 
• overall "productivity" - whether the teacher is prepared, are there clear routines, do children know what they are to do?
• the instruction - are there varied modalities, clear learning objectives, and student interest?
• and how rich is the teaching itself? Does the teacher develop concepts, give feedback, ask open-ended questions, use advanced language?

I consider myself lucky that I work for a school where these formal observations aren't surprises. Certainly, there are surprise appearances by people, pretty much every day - anyone can walk in at any time, all the time, and observe. Our doors are always open. But the graded appraisal is taken with advanced warning - the teacher knows when the evaluator is coming and you can plan lessons to support your best teaching self.

In most DC public schools, these evaluations are not scheduled in advance - on any given day, your evaluator can walk in and begin assessing your teaching. I fail my Teaching Resident in my inability to speak to how to prepare for these. I often wonder what other professional fields have surprise observations. Do supervisors walk in on doctors and evaluate how well they are doing? How is their bedside manner? How long are patients waiting? There is something about this element of surprise - kind of a 'gotcha!' - that seems demeaning to me, demeaning to teachers, makes it seem less a respected profession.

And, yet, conversely, why not have surprise observations? Every day is fodder for an observation! No two days are identical and yet all have common threads. I'm prepared. I'm ready to be in the presence of children. I am happy and welcoming to the children in my classroom.  I am ready to build on what we have been doing.

So, the snow day gives me another day to think. Another day to get ready. When the children come to school tomorrow, it will have been five days since we have seen each other.

I'm ready to spend time with my preschoolers again!

**************

(A daily share by preschoolers in their own words)

A Story Collage by Julian

     My Mommy went to the coop and then the monster truck was right behind Mommy and he got mean to Mommy and a rainstorm came all the way down to the clouds and it went “shhhhhhhh!” and it scared the monster away. The monster said “Rahhh!” And the dragon is over here, next to the big cloud and the rainstorm is coming down at the monster, big giant truck. Then the big house fall onto the coop and Mommy hurt herself. And then a monster with a big horn bicycle. The End

SOLSC What good is the data?

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

*******

She is full of energy, and endless motion.
She visits every center, every day, several visits to each one,
never staying very long.
She loves the sensory table.
She is always busy, up to something.
I have to keep my peripheral vision on her,
if not my full attention.
Yes, she is a "dumper" -
if I'm not right there next to her,
she will dump the beads all over the table,
empty the blocks onto the carpet,
fill a purse with all the pretend food and
dump it out elsewhere in the room.
She is happy and non-stop.

I wasn't surprised by the alphabet assessment.
She didn't recognize any of the letters.
She's just not ready to see these yet, I rationalized.
This is a mover and a shaker.
Her pre-literacy will be song, dance, books, and stories...
we'll get to letter recognition much later...
if not this preschool year, then perhaps pre-k.

At least this is what I was thinking until yesterday.

She was frenetic at the end of the day,
trying to get into the closed sensory table,
reaching for scissors to cut paper into small bits,
opening up the paints at the easel, long after they had been closed for the day.
I didn't want to say "no" anymore.
I scooped her up into my arms, saying,
"I need a minute with you - I need a hug!"
This freed me from having to follow her around,
while dismissing children to their families.
This kept her from getting into any more mischief.

While perched there,
head at my head level,
she surprised me.
She began reading a sign I had posted for adults...
putting her finger at each letter and reading aloud,
accurately,
each letter,
one by one.

What?

My data says,
consistently says,
she does not know any letters.

Yet, here she is,
focused,
reading every letter accurately.

Aieeeee.

What does this tell me about my assessment?
What have I learned about her?
How will I help her to focus from now on?
What else have I missed about her?
What have I assumed?
What good is the data?

How can I grow antennae?

One of the most difficult things to learn as a beginning teacher is how to be alert to all the preschoolers at once, how to work with a few, and, simultaneously, have antennae up for all those who are not at your elbow -
where are they?
what are they doing? 
how are they doing? 

Melissa, my Teaching Resident, posed this question to me last week -
"How can I grow antennae?"

I am delighted by Melissa's question because it tells me she sees the essential need for this skill and she is challenging herself to be fully present in her teaching.

For some teachers, "antennae" are instinctive. I think they are instinctive for me.  Even as a young child, I was hyper-sensitive, hyper-aware about others, "watching the crowd," observing.  (Nosey?)

But what if it is not instinctive?
How to learn the skill?

This is our challenge right now.
With 23 active preschoolers, each of us needs to be aware of all the students, all the time.

It is my job to teach her skills like this,
to make my teaching transparent,
to verbalize how,
to guide her,
to create lessons and opportunities for her to learn this essential skill,
in the midst of teaching preschoolers.

So, I am wondering,

How to grow antennae? 
What do I do? 
How did I learn to be alert to everyone?

How do I teach this?

This past week, during our "free choice" center time, when Melissa was able to be in a more passive role, I challenged her to take a mere 5-10 minutes, standing in one place, and get a mental snapshot of where every child was in the classroom and what they were doing at this moment. She had a basic data sheet with all the children's names, where she wrote very brief notes about each child. I asked her to think about -

Why was the child doing whatever he/she was doing?  
What does it tell us about what the child likes or needs?


This very simple task helped Melissa to look past those children who always get teachers' attention, and to take in the whole room, to see everyone.

After school, we reflected together about this brief observation. By stepping back and observing - for mere minutes, only - she noticed so much that will inform our future planning. For example -

- what activities delighted children,
- which children are beginning to form friendships with others,
- who played alone, yet, happily,
- which children had trouble choosing an activity or entering play,
- who seemed to need sensory, tactile stimulation,
- who needed active, moving play,
- what activities were not of interest to anyone, and
- much more.

I think it is marvelous that one only needs a few moments of "antennae" to learn so much!

I have no doubt that I have excited Melissa about how valuable it is to see everyone. I also know that I need to provide many "mini-lessons" with this goal in mind. I realize this understanding and perspective is not going to happen with just one lecture by me or even one opportunity to practice...this "growing antennae" will be our subtext for the next many weeks.

I'm excited about how much more we will learn and do,
working together as a team,
with our antennae up for one and all.

I'm excited that it is our goal together.