What is new?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am grateful for Frog and catapults and laughter.

How does vocabulary grow?

Frog* loves to talk. She has been sharing her voice with us since she was very young, making so many beautiful sounds. As she approached 18 months of age, a true vocabulary emerged. I love hearing it grow! Frog is, in many ways, a natural learner of language, listening closely to the many loving adults in her world and absorbing the words. I do a lot of narration when I play alongside her and I have noticed that Frog is becoming quite the narrator herself. 

We currently go around in circles with personal pronouns. I'll say "Do you want to me to color with you?" and she'll answer "me color you" - which leaves me slightly confused. Another favorite is when she declares, "hold you!" and she'll lift her arms towards me. (I remember my boys making this same gorgeous verbal goof!) She wants me to pick her up, and is simply echoing my ask of many times, "Would you like me to hold you?" These are common, classic errors of this developmental stage, and I have no doubt that they will straighten themselves out in time.

In high school foreign language classes, I remember how challenging I found it to take the risk of talking, to dare to share a new word. Young children do this with abandon and we have so much to learn from them. Truly, to grow a vocabulary, you have to take it for a walk - you have to use words, to grow your understanding of these new words. I have been amazed by how Frog plays with words, how she tries them out in new situations. Let me give an example or two . . . .

Frog is very interested in how things change - she notices every cabinet door that has been left open, every object that falls to the floor from the table, every item that appears out of place. She greets these new states with a surprised "Oh, no!" In recent months, she follows this exclamation of "Oh, no!" with a descriptive word about the situation. I first noticed her experimentation with the word "ripped" - as in, 'yes, the book page is ripped.' It is a shocking turn of events! Frog is learning not to rip pages in picture books, but at two years of age, she is not always able to control the impulse and she is absolutely obsessed with the fact that it has occurred. A book that had a page ripped more than three months back will have this flaw pointed out every time you read the book to her. Every. Single. Time. So, here's what has caught my ear in recent weeks - Frog has started to use the word 'ripped' for other broken things. She saw a pothole in the road on a recent walk and said - "Oh, no! Ripped!" Just thinking about this makes me smile. She is noticing the change, noticing that it isn't 'right,' or as it was, and she connected this change to the ripped page of a book.

Yes, I love this! I feel as if I am seeing her brain grow and stretch. She is applying what she knows in new ways. 

The same thing has happened with the word "leaking" - a word she LOVES now, after watching endless rain pour out of a downspout during a rainstorm, and hearing us describe this as 'leaking,' 'draining,' and 'pouring out.' She held on to the word "leaking" because she had heard it many times before in relation to her sippy cup, which I have the darndest time closing tightly, and here the word appeared again vis-a-vis the rain - imagine! She absorbed this new word. A day or two later, eating oatmeal at breakfast, she ate too quickly and some oatmeal smeared onto her chin, and she declared "Oh, no! Leaking!" Again, just thinking about this makes me smile. Isn't it fascinating that this more soft, amorphous, free flowing material was 'leaking' and the harder cracked stuff (the road) was called 'ripped' ? Yes, I think her word use is inaccurate, but it is also really close. I get it. 

It's two year old code. 
It's two year old language explosion. 
It's lots of fun for this grandmother.

Thinking about her growing vocabulary, I have been working on a very special photo album for Frog. Or is it for me? Yes, I am trying my best to document this time, and so much happens every day, I must really work to keep up. I looked through photos of Frog at play and thought about all the new words she has recently acquired, and decided to connect action photos with these words. I've started a sweet little photo book with pictures of her:

closing, opening, dumping, digging, pouring, looking, hiding, finding, messy, soft, gentle, ticklish, loud, quiet, moving, walking, running, falling, jumping, spinning, dressing, wearing, helping, washing, cleaning, sweeping, raking . . . .

Oh my, the list goes on and on, and reads like the life of a happy youngster. Which Frog is!

 

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

                                                 - Bev Bos

*In order to keep as much privacy as possible for my family, I try to use nicknames. Frog is the nickname for my oldest granddaughter, who is two years old. Her younger sister was born in Fall 2020; I've nicknamed her Bird.

Can we talk together?

This magic moment:

It is indoor recess and they play together, building with our large, foam, 'blue blocks.' They construct a simple structure with a long bench, which promptly becomes a shared bench for conversation. They pretend to be Momma and Daddy, and talk about taking care of the baby and the dog. One preschooler does all the talking, because, honestly, the other is developmentally delayed in speaking. What makes this first preschooler persist in the conversation? She has a sixth sense for her partner's delight and interest in the game, and a huge empathic heart that is not in the least bit stopped by lack of speech. It is beautiful to watch.

We adults have much to learn from children.

Magic.

How to put the puzzle pieces together?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life with Two Writing Teachers.
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.

Have you ever watched a group of preschoolers create a floor puzzle together? Everything that children need to learn about sharing can be learned through this one activity. Simply place the puzzle box on the floor and invite children to join you - and, wow, watch the fun unfold!

The play begins wildly, boldly, instantly, and selfishly, with each child automatically grabbing one or two pieces and trying to shove their own pieces together. Three year olds are used to playing with things by themselves and for themselves. They are not accustomed to working with others. The first few moments of puzzle-making are fast-paced motion...the grabbing of a piece or two, trying to connect the pieces, dropping puzzle pieces in frustration, and moving onto another piece immediately to see if it matches. Many hands moving quickly, mashing pieces together on the floor, stepping onto pieces or bumping into a classmate, whirling, spinning, commotion.

Most preschoolers seem to readily grasp that the pieces fit together in some way; I have never had to explain this. There are typically about 20 pieces, meaning a small group of preschoolers can grab one or two pieces each, and each feel very powerful. Of course, in reality, there's not much exciting about one or two pieces of a puzzle. There's not much to see or make, with so few.

Often, one child will walk off to the periphery of all the commotion, clutching a piece, not seeking out any other pieces, and, seemingly, feeling no need to participate in the puzzle building. This savvy child! They may look disinterested, but they have claimed some very valuable real estate. Yes, they are holding what will be the LAST piece of the puzzle...ha! This piece is being ignored right now, but, without a doubt, it will become very important very soon.

As teacher, I try simply to moderate the overall process. I try not to direct the children to follow 'my approach.' For example, I don't say - "Hey, let's grab all the straight edges first." - which was definitely the way I was taught, many years ago. I enjoy watching preschoolers find their own way, to figure it out...I trust that they will. I sit back a bit, and use my voice mostly to guide - helping them work together.

Sometimes the puzzle piece that you simply must have is in another child's hands, and, here, it's often easiest to just grab the piece out of the other's hands. Teachable moment! I pepper them with questions - "Who had that piece first?," "Did you ask her if you could have that?" "Where do you think it goes?" "What makes you think so?" "How do those two match up?" Many instinctively know to turn the piece around and around and around, exploring new positions, to see if the pieces will connect.

As the children work, I begin to build some ground rules with them - "If two pieces are connected, you leave them be and try to match your piece to the connected ones. Don't take apart what is already working." Somehow, this often seems to surprise preschoolers - as if, "Wait, I didn't match those pieces! But, you expect me to leave them be?" Another important rule, "We don't take pieces out of our classmates' hands." Also, "Puzzle makers move slowly and purposefully, they don't stand on the puzzles."

I am frequently amazed at the ferocity and motion involved in making a puzzle together. Around and around and around they go, testing this piece against the other.

Always,
after a short while,
seemingly arising out of thin air,
certainly,
bubbling up without any plan of action other than 'every child for herself',
the puzzle begins to form,
with interconnected sections becoming more apparent.

I often wonder if this is the very moment that young children become aware of the power of team work..the very moment they become aware that, wow, perhaps each person has something to offer to the process...the very moment each child begins to literally see how what they are doing connects with that of others.

Although the puzzle begins with every child feeling and working solo, in the end, it is completed by the work of many...it takes a team.

The learning from such a simple 'toy' is truly profound. Children learn to be more observant of one another and of the puzzle, noticing details on each individual piece. They begin to interact with one another, communicating - "Does this go here?" "Put yours there." "Here!" "Look! These go here!"

And that child who might have wandered off with that one piece? Oh, yes, we need her now! You can't finish without a floor puzzle without including everyone.

Floor puzzles have two distinct phases for preschoolers -
the first, egotistical, self-absorbed, every child for him or herself; and
the second, enlightenment, the mind opens, the realization comes - we do better when we work together.

There's always a big round of applause at the conclusion of a puzzle! Go, preschoolers!

SOLSC #12 What should our world look like?

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.

 

A note from a colleague, who lucked into a peer observation in my room on Friday morning, when we were having an absolutely delightful morning:

"Thanks for having me! I love the warm learning environment, and all the wonderful play, magic and love in this classroom."

Building with Magna Tiles

The zoo

Fridays really are the best day of the week, and yesterday's was above and beyond. The children's play has been replicating their city lives, and I watched a virtual city arise in our classroom - with some fantastical, magical, fictional details thrown in the mix. We dragged the cardboard castle and house to the carpet where we build with blocks and I suspect this was the catalyst for the city that grew all around it. Magna Tiles and small cars were used on one table, where focused builders created "lines of houses with parking garages" (rowhouses, to my eye) and a batcave (Batman has to be nearby) and a big store for shopping. There was a fervent attempt to make roads, but these would be broken up and changed into new structures. From the table to the floor, there were ramps leading to "a super highway, where the cars go really really fast and crash and go again." On the carpet, children worked very hard and patiently to create  a large, detailed zoo. In the sensory table, they worked with sand and gems and pronounced it "a cake-making place, I mean a bakery!" Over by the large windows, I found two preschoolers lying on cloths, and they explained they were at the beach. 

Doctors getting ready for work

The piece de resistance of the city - from my perspective - was the veterinarian hospital. Preschoolers collected all of the stuffed animals in the classroom and created the many beds for the sick animals in the shelving of the dramatic play stove, refrigerator, sink. For some reason, this really made me chuckle. They had toy stethoscopes, medicine, and shots to dispense. Preschool writers were employed to make signs, asking me how to spell 'veterinarian.' (I regret that I did not take a photo of the hospital warning sign they dreamed up, with help from teachers on individual words - "Don't take animal before they fix it") There was a great deal of work. One harried doctor exclaimed, "We're having trouble with the animals, they don't like the medicine."

Can you see the animals in this stove hospital?

The entire morning was good medicine for me, as I watched preschoolers immersed in play, working so beautifully with one another, showing flexibility, imagination, and joy.

SOLSC #2 What if we made our own paper?

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.

The Big Cats have been immersed in paper-making the past few weeks. We are creating our own paper and then using these papers as a base to explore a variety of art techniques. I haven't made homemade paper in years...and I remember doing it with a group of adults. I don't believe I ever did it with a group of three year olds. What an amazing time we have had!

Ms. Donna Jonte, our mentor teacher for our arts integration work with the Phillips Collection, showed up with bins, buckets, tubs, felt, towels, screens, frames, sponges - every imaginable tool to help make the paper-making easier. She even brought some pre-made pulp, so that the preschoolers could immediately explore the sensory delight of pulp. And explore it, they did! They immediately rolled up their sleeves and immersed their hands and arms in the murky, cool slurp. Our sensory table is now home to this wet stuff, and children enjoy working with this material even without a plan to make paper - it is just fun to feel.

After only one morning working alongside Ms. Jonte, the children were at ease with the paper-making process - dip the frame, lift, shake and drain (chanting, “do the paper-making dance” as they remove the excess water), move to the table, flip the frame onto a sheet of felt, sponge off excess water from the back of the frame, lift off the frame, cover the new paper with a layer of felt, head back to the sensory table and begin again. I found myself being a serious student, trying to memorize every precise technique that Ms. Jonte shared, but the children taught me it's not an exact science. You can have a lot of fun in discovering shortcuts and new paths. Oh, how they laughed when water cascaded to the floor because they forgot to drain the screen frame. They were equally amused when a slumped paper piece - really, a ball not a sheet - appeared from a hastily emptied frame. The children loved poking holes, adding in extras, squishing two wet pieces together...none of these creative bursts were orchestrated by me, but simply the of joyful result of working in this structured yet free space. 

Since that first morning of exploration, we've added blenders and scrap papers to make our own paper, and this delights the children, too. They love to tear the paper into small bits, stuff the blender, add water, and hear the roar of the blender as it chews the scraps into the tiniest bits. 

Tearing up egg cartons to make pulp

Tearing up easel papers to make pulp

Over and over and over again, the children make paper.  I love how the children come and go – playing with the pulp, making a sheet of paper, running off to explore blocks or science or writing or painting at the easels, returning to make more paper. There is so much to do.

Painting with watercolors on our homemade paper

Once the paper dries, the children have been using the paper for painting, drawing, printing, and more.

Making paper - somewhat sloppy, super simple, superbly fun! It is early childhood play at its very best.

I will be doing this with preschoolers for many years to come.

What if we made a map?

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

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.

We had such a crazy start to our day, today. Yesterday's 'wintry mix' concluded with torrential rains this morning, causing a two-hour delay for school. My commute was exhausting. I arrived at school completely soaked, having negotiated sidewalks flooded with melting snow and running water, and I witnessed my umbrella breaking into three parts due to the high winds. Yes, it was a wild walk from the metro to school. I am thankful that I had a day with preschoolers, who would readily accept me in wet clothes and socks but no shoes. We could have fun together!

I knew that arrival time would be frenzied for families, too, with children arriving at varied times. I also knew that our time at centers would be truncated...we needed to get right into the fun.

I cut a large piece of cardboard to cover our table, and this, in and of itself, delighted the children. We had never done this before! I got out our markers and our rulers. I challenged the children to think about the maps we had seen in Katy and the Big Snow by Virginia Lee Burton. What if we drew a map of our city? Of course! Yes! We can do this!

The children traced the contour of found objects to create buildings, houses, stores, ballparks (Go, Nationals!), and playgrounds. The rulers made great roads and train tracks, plus the children could measure which roads were longer, which were shorter. The children searched through the found objects to create make-believe people (marker caps were particularly good), and the children counted steps as these 'marker people' walked the roads. The children also enjoyed drawing people, animals, sunshine, and other features on the map.

Before we knew it, it was time to clean up. Tomorrow, we'll continue our work - writing labels or perhaps using the map as a base on our floor in the block corner...maybe we'll build 3-d buildings for the map, out of our small blocks. We'll see!

Expect things to get a little messy

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

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.





_________


My centers time is such a delightful mess.
Really.



I love how the children get deep into everything.

We need these and these and these.

We need this and this and this and this and this.

The children begin playing in one place and move on to another,

taking materials with them as they go,

dress ups to the blocks,

dolls to the writing center,

science materials to the dress ups,

around and around and around the room they go.

We need these and these and these.

We need this and this and this and this and this.

Twenty minutes into centers and the room is 

in total disarray

but there is a beautiful hum.

So many blocks,
let's build houses for ourselves,
let's build roads,
let's build an animal world,
let's make ramps,
let's play together.

We need these and these and these.

We need this and this and this and this and this.

Let's go off by ourselves

and make believe

I'll drive, and 

you be in the backseat with the baby

We'll go to the doctor's,

We should stop at the store and buy those.

We'll play together.

We need these and these and these.

We need this and this and this and this and this.

We need it all.

Let's play together.

What about play?

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

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.


______________________________

In many ways, it was a release, a letting up of the brakes. 

A new gift from a family,

a bin of cloths,

large fabric pieces,

varied colors, textures, sizes.

Four boys wanted to dress up. Make me a hat! Can I have a cape? I need this part on my body! Can you tie this here? I am ninja! I am fast! I am superhero!

Let's forget that I am

one small part of  an elementary and middle school,
primed and ready for surprise observations from district officials and other supervisors, looking for rigor and visible learning,

providing family conferences about student progress, with families craving insight about pre-literacy, early mathematics, academic skills, their child's future success,

readying for the Learning Showcase evening event, documenting all the children's work for families and community, with children owning their work and detailing it for families, all work labelled with clear objectives, 

supporting a resident teacher, immersed in graduate school details of early reading, collecting data, leveled readers, guided reading, reading progress,

adhering to specific and separate times for art, music, Spanish, physical education, recess,
keeping unit plans updated, lesson plans current and detailed,
making sure I am following the posted schedule with impunity,
consumed by data tracking, writing trimester summaries and report cards

Let's forget the tension of

specify, specify, specify,

faster, faster, faster,

more, more, more

Four boys wanted to dress up.

And I began to play, too.

And then they began to run, 

in the classroom,

their excitement impossible to contain,

to which I led them outdoors,
to the field,

where we ran and ran and ran

on a rainy day.

I wonder

are we making time for make-believe?

are we preserving possibility for the unexpected?

are we remembering what it is to be a child?

are we along for their ride?

are we losing sight of the three year old?

the preschooler?

the child?

are we losing our minds or their minds?

what is really needed?

Children need play and its infinite possibilities,

surrounded by adults who nourish the fun.

And so,

we played.

SOLSC 2015 #27: Is it barometric pressure?

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. 

*******

I am really not sure what happened. 

I blame fluctuations in the barometric pressure, as our outdoor recess was drowned out unexpectedly by pouring rain while the outside temperature rose to nearly 70, after many chilly days of winter coats. 

I am really not sure what happened.

No one got along.

We had a long, tortuous morning together,

Centers full of acrimony, an indoor recess with the large blue foam blocks that hurt my ears and made my heart sad...and we returned to our classroom for read-aloud.

"Before I begin reading, I want to see a show of hands for those who had something sad or unkind happen to them today...let's share what happened, one at a time."

And I recorded their list - and added a few of my own, asking certain children to speak up and share their sad story. 

Oh, it was ugly!

He knocked my tower down!

She said I couldn't play with her!

He drew on my clothes! 

She took my necklaces from me!

He said mean things!

She grabbed the blocks I was cleaning up!

He said I don't know how to draw!

She wouldn't give me any Magna Tiles!

He took the dice!

She said I was not her friend anymore!

He screamed in my face!

She hit me!

When it seemed as if we were beginning to hear the same sad stories over and over, I called a halt to the list and said - 

"I think we are all having many of the same sad problems, today. I am very sad, because none of these things - these behaviors - are in the Big Cats' tradition. Here, in the Big Cats, we are kind and gentle with one another. 

Let's look again at each of these things and see if we can find a kinder thing to do in its place, something we wish we had happened..."

One by one, we realized we should -

• ask if we can knock something over.
• say kind things.
• draw with markers on paper.
• gentle with other people's things.
• be kind and gentle with one another
• say "May I have that when you are done?"
• be kind and gentle with one another
• share toys with one another
• be kind and gentle with our voices
• be kind and gentle with our bodies 
• be kind and gentle with one another.

Really, that is the only rule we need to remember -

We are kind and gentle with one another.

It took a long time to have this heartfelt, emotional discussion. Much to the children's surprise I said that we had run out of time for a read-aloud before lunch...instead, we'd go right to lunch and make this a special "do over" time by talking at our tables about -

what kind and gentle things happened today?

what kind and gentle things would we do tomorrow?

In this way, we began to turn our day around. 

SOLSC 2015 #24: What do you want to learn about?

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. 

*******

"Quick, Ms. Ingram, quick! Over here!"

"You have to have your feet on the bench! You can't have your feet on the ground!"

"The spaceship is getting ready to take off!"

"Come on, astronauts!"

"I want to get on!"

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, blast off!"

"We're going to the moon!"

"We're going to Jupiter!"

"I want to go to Mars!"

We pretend that the rockets blast, there is some turbulence, we bounce into a landing, and all the children spill off the bench, running in all directions, with hands held up to their faces (pretending to have oxygen masks of astronauts). Several are in charge and at a moment's notice, we must get back onto the rocket for another space trip.

Many voices at once, many preschool bodies, squeezing onto one of our big wooden playground benches, James, Katherine, Simona, Julian, Micah, Nicky, Evan, Kaelyn, Dmitry, Avery, Naima, Luke, Jackson...how can so many children fit on one bench? I know I'm pretty much on the bottom of the heap, using my arms to embrace and hold onto a few children...they always allow me to be on the bench first, thank goodness! Others are hanging onto the back of the bench, feet wedged into the bottom part (making sure their feet are not on the ground, interfering with takeoff), still others are on the arms of the bench, entangled with one another and me. 

In recent weeks, on the playground, it's all about going to space, being on a rocket (the bench). Truly, I think everyone in our class has played this game with us at some time...children from other classes join in on it, too. We simply expand the number of rockets (lucky us, there are four strong benches on our playground).

Yesterday, at read-aloud time, I chose two books about the moon, 

The nonfiction Dorling Kindersley's Eyewitness Book Moon for nonfiction and the lovely story by Floyd Cooper, Max and the Tag-Along Moon. 

I love reading books that parallel their interests, provoking questions, comments, thought. Once again, play helps me see what they want to learn.

SOLSC 2015 #16: What just appeared?

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. 

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It continually amazes me how children will be working on something and then suddenly it morphs into something all new...yet, temporary. The idea just 'bubbles up' from the group. I've seen this in all parts of the classroom  - say, dramatic play where a "bus" line of chairs is formed, or the art table where all of a sudden several children begin to paint a single masterpiece together, with a new technique.  If not for photos that I have snapped on my phone, I'd have no proof that many things ever occurred. Today, for example, there was a spontaneous project to create a circular road using all the big blocks. 

Here's my photo proof...and a simple poem to celebrate.

Let's make a road,

a road to nowhere,

let's show them how it's done.

Let's make a road,

using all of our blocks,

yes, we have just begun. 

Let's make a road,

that goes around and around,

we'll stop when we are done.

Let's make a road,

super strong and long,

It's the very best one!

Let's make a road,

a road to climb on,

we know how to have fun.

SOLSC 2015 #15: How can I convince 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. 

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I have spent a good bit of time this weekend drafting report cards for second trimester. For each preschooler, I prepare a narrative focusing on their social-emotional, cognitive, and academic progress.

It's amazing what jumps out at me, today - in time for a blog post! 

As I write, for example,

• about her love for building ramps, how this is where she heads whenever she has free choice of activities, and that she has a precise plan for what she will construct...or 
• about his willingness and readiness to try every new activity, however, he quickly runs off when something is more difficult or challenging then he imagined...

I realize (again!) that children's play provides tremendous insight into how they learn. 

How he himself learns. 

How she herself learns.

I fully believe adults can help foster stronger academic skills through play. Playing off the two examples above, I would look for ways to help them extend their focus, or ways to help them consider another idea than the one they had originally.

However, writing report cards, it leaps off the page how children are helping themselves develop stronger academic skills through their play.  I see them -

fixing, 

trying, 

persisting,

re-purposing,

imagining,

gaining more patience,

being more flexible,

and more.

Juxtapose this insight with a brief conversation I had recently with an acquaintance, a young father, upon meeting his three year old child, who will turn four late next fall. 

I inquired, 

"Oh, so will he start preschool/pre-k 3 in the fall?" 

"Oh, no, I hope not. He's already in a daycare program. They play too much. I want him with older kids. He's really smart. I'm going to see if I can get him in with 4 and 5 year olds. I want him to learn to read and to write his name."

To which I quickly (and somewhat aggressively, I realize now) responded, 

"May I give you my two minute preaching on this subject? This is the age I work with every day...three year olds...you want him in a good quality play-based program. Let him learn about himself, what excites him, what is fun, how to speak up, ask questions. You want him playing right now, working with other children, learning how to be a great friend. Seriously, don't rush him."

The look my acquaintance gave me as he scooted away assured me he thought I was nuts.

Can a nut plant seeds?