COVID 19 - How have things changed?

Truly,
I should be writing more in this blog, during this new normal.

My teaching days are now filled to the brim with new experiences - working through technical challenges to produce some clunky video for preschoolers, having virtual meetings with colleagues, FaceTime conversations with families and preschoolers, on and on. It's all new, and I think I am still trying to find my footing.

It feels as if the world is trying to find its footing.

So here we all are, figuring this out as we go.

Something kind of sweet though - we are building stronger connections with families. We are having rich one-on-one conversations on a regular basis, striving to be in contact at least twice a week. Each of us on the teaching team is taking turns to chat with families, and we share these stories with one another. This brings me great joy! I am particularly fond of FaceTime and the ability to see children's faces...I know it helps the preschoolers, too, to see mine (though, geez, I am shocked by how I look, every single time that camera pops on). I delight in preschooler's use of FaceTime - I have seen so many ceilings!

My friend Hannah's home routine for her preschooler

My role as teacher has changed. I find I am listener, supporter, and counselor, shoring up the family. I am touched by the confidences that have been shared - families needing to vent, to hope, to understand, seeking insight, perspective, affirmation, or just an ear. Over and over again, I am awed by the strength, wisdom, and love of all these families, how they are meeting the demands of this wild new time. We are a resilient species, we human beings.

It is perhaps not surprising that each family is succeeding a little differently from one another, no two alike. Couples are finding new work-life rhythms, these were made up on the fly and continue to be re-adjusted. Children have clear routines, no routines, and somewhere-in-the-middle routines; everyone is finding out what works best for them. I try to share what we did in school, just to let families know of what was once possible...in a very different setting.

Things are always going to be different at home.

COVID 19: Virtual Learning

Just like that,
we will not meet in our classroom,
but virtually only,
preschoolers and teachers,
for the foreseeable future,
while our world struggles against coronavirus.
To be apart
is the very best defense.

Just like that,
we are thinking virtually,
how to display our learning?
how to have conferences?
how to do lessons?
how to create projects?
how to play together separately?
how to build and paint and dress up and move and read and share together?
how to do this virtually?

Oh my.

This is a reinvention of preschool.

What do you do when you are waiting?

"You can live life as if there are no miracles, or

you can live life as if everything is."

- Anonymous

These first six weeks of school are, necessarily, focused on guiding children to understand the routines of school...and there is simply no end to all the small things that children must learn how to do in a preschool class. The more that they can fulfill these tasks and routines independently and/or automatically, the more their play will be rich and varied in the very near future. 

It is life-giving for me, to mix a little magic in with the routines...to soften the 'work' of it, and to make these more fun. Otherwise, teaching routines would be dull, dull, dull. Children absorb the learning much more easily when there's a little silly or surprise to go along with it. Song provides a lot of magic, and I sing through many of our routines - gathering on the carpet, readying ourselves to listen to a book, and, even, singing 'baby sooooaaaap" to the tune of 'baby shark' as I remind them to take one squirt of soap when we are washing our hands.

This week I discovered a little bit of magic of the children's own making. When we wash our hands before snack and lunch, we line up one-by-one at the sink. This line, when the children initially line up, curves alongside the art table, past the easels, and around the back of the room - 22 preschoolers can make a long line! Well, lo and behold, in addition to singing as we wash our hands, these preschoolers have been making art at the easel (see the picture above). I was too focused on the hands at the sink to notice this fun sideline activity. Then, the hand-washing was complete, the children were happily seated at the lunch table, and I walked by the easel, and - whoa! What a surprise! I can't help but feel that these students will become strong academics in the near future - they have made great use of their time, throwing themselves into a creative task, together, as they wait their way through a drudgery of a task!

Are you able to bear the responsibility?

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.

Second day of school. Early dismissal for preschoolers. 12 noon. Three of them wait to be picked up. Tick-tock, tick-tock. 12:10. One child helps to sweep the floor, one child dances on carpet, one colors at a table. These three watched every other child get picked up. Oh, here is a family! Down to two children. Three teachers, two preschoolers. 12:15  I lean down to tie the dancing preschooler's shoes; no sign of his parents yet. Oh, here's another family! This Mom has questions, I turn to answer her -  "yes, we need napping materials for tomorrow's full day..." and, quietly, invisibly, unexpectedly, he slips out. Elopes. Right by me, standing three feet from the door of our classroom. He, my dancer, the last child, waiting, desperately, for a Mommy or Daddy or another loving adult who never comes. He is impatient, he is three. He has just watched every classmate get picked up. 

In a split second, he was gone. 

Just a minute more, maybe only 30 seconds later, I knew he was gone, too - and I bolted from my classroom, down the hall, towards the front desk - only to be met by Mom and Grandmother, holding him firmly by the hand. Mom was livid - "I did NOT find him right here in the hall! I found him out front, coming out the front door of the school!" 

Her angry eyes will stick in my memory forever - devoid of trust, filled with hurt and anger.

I rambled,

"I am SO sorry. I am SO sorry. I need you to know, this is on ME, I am responsible. He was just here, and he slipped out, and that SHOULD NEVER EVER EVER have happened and I am totally at fault. I am so sorry. I have never had this happen in all my years of teaching and it won't happen again, I promise."

She was LIVID.

Words are nothing but nasty air when one's most important possession has almost vanished.

I continued,

"Please, this is horrible. I invite you to speak to our principal about this. It is a terrible mistake and you should report it. I can assure you it won't happen again. I'm sorry."

I moved automatically to find my principal, and I breathlessly told her, "Please speak with this family, they are so upset, as they should be - their preschooler in my class slipped out the front door of the school at early dismissal."

My principal asked with remarkable calm, "Did we find the child?"

"Yes! His family was walking right up to the school when he was walking out - they grabbed him and brought him back to me."

My principal continued to me, before talking to the family - "This is a blessing. Hear me, it's a blessing. He was found. He is safe. Now we know. We revise our plan. We continue on." 

As she walked toward the family to talk further, I dissolved into tears. 

It is hard to bear the responsibility.

***

Epilogue -

Even now, a whole year later, it is hard to think about this day.

My principal and colleagues gave me tremendous support and perspective, and I am so appreciative. We revised our 'end of day' routines, and there was never another such incident all year. I worked hard to rebuild trust with the family; I am very close to this family, now.

Truly, on this day, my biggest fear about working with young children happened: losing a child...that one might simply disappear, no matter how hard I try to keep my eyes on them. Whenever I hear one of those nightmare stories about a child who walks away from school, I think "but for the grace of God" - and I am filled with compassion for everyone involved. It takes a village!!

What about the first day of school?

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.

Today was the first day of preschool for this school year, 2018-19. What an amazing day we had together!  We worked hard to prepare the room for them...and I believe the children felt both comfortable and safe right away. 

Although we only met for half a day, I am totally worn out in the happiest of ways. Here's to the year ahead!!!

For this Slice of Life, let me simply share my note to the families -

Happy first day of school!

We had a fabulous day in the Big Cats! There were so few tears - and these lasted only a brief moment. Your children loved dancing, playing, singing, running, painting, exploring, building, writing, and reading together! We tried to take lots of pictures of their fun together. Here are a few things we noticed them doing:
 

• loving babies

• finding sharks

• painting with marbles

• reading books

• creating tall mountains of sand

• making tea parties

• being Mommies

• racing cars

• build a castle to the ceiling

We are learning the routines of school each day. Today, we played ‘follow the leader’ to investigate every center of the classroom. We practiced:

• washing our hands,

• lining up together and walking quietly through the hall, and

• ‘going quiet and listening’ when the teacher calls for our attention.

We learned a couple ‘call and response’ techniques - 1) when someone calls “Agoe” [do you hear me?], we answer “Amay” [I am listening to you]. 2) when someone says “bop bop ba bop bop”, we answer “bop bop.”

Our books today: From Head to Toe by Eric Carle and Owl Babies by Martin Waddell.

Again, such a special day!! Thank you for sharing your children with us!
 

SOLSC #14: What do you expect?

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.

Today started off with one bad surprise after another.

Getting ready for work, I put on my last pair of clean socks and my heel when right through one of them.

I didn't expect that!

I grabbed my phone from where it had been charging all night and it had no charge whatsoever.

I didn't expect that! 

At the metro station, I scanned my metro card but the turnstile did not unlock...I almost flipped over the outstretched arms of that machine - oh my! 

I didn't expect that!

Sitting on the metro, I hear my stop announced; I stand up to leave my seat, but my seat mate does not budge to let me out - I am confused momentarily, only to look down at him and realize he is sound asleep...I tapped his shoulder, woke him up, and raced out of the train, almost missing my stop entirely. 

I didn't expect that!

I walked to school from the metro station in freezing cold wind...isn't it March 14th? What in the world?!

I didn't expect that!

As I walked along, I found myself thinking about how hard it is for young children to handle changes like this...especially, young children with special needs such as autism spectrum. How do you ready them for the unexpected? Every day is a surprise, really! Every day is filled with the unexpected. And some days, it is just one thing after the other. You do what you can do to have routine, patterns, organization...but the best-laid plans go awry. Perhaps the best thing to do is find a way to respond to these changes in a soothing way. For me, it's laughter. I try to find something funny about the situation, I try not to take myself too seriously...and, honestly, I think my flip over the turnstile would have been so funny!

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.

sol17-14 How is change good?

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 morning alarm went off as usual, and I immediately checked my phone for a message. Just like I feared - the promised big snow fizzled into an icy slush, bringing a confusion of school closings and delays. My Maryland neighborhood schools were closed. However, the Washington, D.C. school where I teach had a two-hour delay. Ugh. Gotta get ready for the slog of a commute. Note to self: find ways to make it better, to be grateful, to see the wonder. I reset the alarm for a little later and went back to sleep.

This small delight didn't last terribly long. I couldn't stop thinking about all the extra things that needed doing. My husband is out of town for a few days...I would need to shovel the driveway, I would need to scrape off the car. I got out of bed, made myself a cup of hot tea, and surveyed the scene outside.

I shoveled the snow right away, before breakfast, before reading the newspaper. Two inches of heavy back-breaking icy slush. It looked like nothing but weighed a ton. Note to self: focus on the beauty of the snowy trees and shrubs, how quiet everything is outside, how beautiful. I found a thick coat of ice on my car. Sorry, this is not beautiful. Ugh. I decided that it was wiser to take the bus this morning. Note to self: see, you have options! How lucky! I packed my backpack with spare slip-ons and a yummy lunch, I bundled up in my warm "ski" hat, gloves, and snow boots. Out the door! Here goes!

There was no one on the roads. No one. Ugh! They were all sleeping in!!! Even the Federal Government received a three-hour delayed start. I was all alone. I was the only one awake. I was the only one who was miserable. Ugh: the roads are unplowed. I had to trudge through this icy, wet stuff. Note to self: hey, isn't this fun? You are walking the center of streets to the bus stop - how often do you get to do that?

Walking. Walking. Walking. Bus stop. My husband sends me a love message from warm, sunny Arizona.  Ice pellets rain down on me. I wait for the bus. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Are the busses running? How do I know if the busses are running? What was my backup plan? Did I need a backup plan? I waited. From behind me, I heard laughter - a boy of about 8 or 10 years of age was rolling around in the snow in his front yard, which made me smile. Ahh, that is how this day should have begun. Wistful. Sad. Lonely. Note to self, note to self, note to self? What to feel grateful for? What can I think of?

Unbelievably, a lone car pulls out of a neighboring road and then it stopped in front of me. The driver rolled down the window and called out - "Are you headed to the metro? Would you like a ride? I'm not sure the busses are running." Yes! A woman picked me up at my bus stop. An angel named Ingrid. She didn't know me and I didn't know her. I am truly grateful. 

Truly, from this moment on, the day became lighter. I was challenged from the get go, but I worked on focusing on the positive and letting in the joy. Now, looking back on the day, I am realizing it can be good if not invigorating when our normal 'rules' and routines get bent or downright broken. It makes you look at the world with new eyes.

Just today,

• I accepted a ride from a stranger, and met a neighbor, learning quickly that we had people and things in common. 
• When I got off the metro, I found my path to school thick with the same icy sludge that I shoveled back home...I walked with my feet pointing out, I walked with my feet pointing in, just like Peter in The Snowy Day. 
• Only half my students attended school today and I felt as though I engaged and connected with every one of them; also, missing many of their classmates, I watched the children play together in new ways.
• I brought snow in from outside for the children to explore and they kept their mittens on to make snowballs and snow muffins. 
• We slowed our schedule down, had a leisurely lunch with lots of good conversation, put the children down for their nap a little later, and all was well. 

Turn around, the day was over.

Change: challenging, provocative, daring, trusting, silly, looser, happier.

sol17-4 How do I know for sure?

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 like to follow routines.

I like "programs."

I like to compare my results from one day and build on them for the next.

I find these to be motivational, 

'a shot in the arm,' 

a way to reorganize my brain from 'no, I have no time' into

'of course, I can make that happen.'

Which is why I am writing every day in March for this Slice of Life Story Challenge.

Which is why I have a Fitbit, tracking my daily 10,000 steps.

Which is why I said yes to my niece to participate in a Facebook "Secret Group" Fitness Challenge, doing insane exercises every day for one month (15 February through 15 March).

I have only had a very few days of all these 'systems' overlapping and I realize I have turned into a bit of a robot:

Wake up, 

get out journal and write draft ideas for slice(s); 

check time for getting out the door for school; 

check Facebook for today's new exercise routine and make plan for when it will fit into the day (before school or after school?);

attach Fitbit to clothes so that all walking steps are recorded; 

go through work day; 

when you return home, check - 

have you entered blog post? take time to write.

have you walked enough? take time to walk.

did you do new exercise routine? take time to exercise.

It's actually a little amazing how everything is fitting into place, how everything is getting done...even in the midst of a week that included two evenings at school and all the extra duties and preparation for these. Check! still following all routines!

I will admit to living for the weekend - today! yes, it is here! - and having time to process and reflect, to re-organize, regroup, and get ready for another crazy week ahead.

So, it is both ironic and funny that I discovered two technology fails today. Just in time for reflection.

One, my three-year old Fitbit is dead, dead, dead. Yes, I attached it to my clothes every day and I walked, walked, walked, but there is no evidence of this anywhere. Wait a minute, did I walk enough this week? Yikes, how do I know for sure?

Two, my scale. 18 days into this insane exercise challenge and I wondered, have I lost a pound or two? Anything? In 18 days? Let's see! And I jump on the scale - and the screen stays totally blank. Yes, really, my scale is dead, dead, dead.  Wait a minute, is this increased exercise making any difference? Yikes, how do I know for sure?

Maybe I have these new routines taking up too big a space in my head. Why should seeing a number on a device bring me peace? Doesn't the act of walking do this? Doesn't a sweaty workout do this? Does writing about it do this?

There. Blogpost #4. See! I know for sure!

sol17-2 Where can it be?

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.

Searching.

I've gone around and around my house, looking for my dressy black jacket with the small floral designs on the cuffs. It would be the perfect thing to throw on this evening, for our Learning Showcase, to switch from school day casual to a more refined, professional, "Your children have worked hard so I'm styling for you" look. Where is the darn jacket? I have a small house, I have very few and small closets, where can it be? First glance at the closet reveals nothing. Slow down. I flip through the clothes hangers from the left side, then I flip from the right, I repeat, I search the floor, I search my husband's closet, I search the front hall closet with the winter coats - no reason for it to be there, but, there's no reason for it not to be in my closet, so now anyplace is possible. Did I take it on a trip and leave it somewhere? Did I take it to the cleaners and forget about it? How long ago did I last wear it? (How long ago did I last 'where' it?) Why isn't it here? What's my back up plan? No, I think I wore my red jacket to the last Learning Showcase. Actually, I'm not sure. The black dressy sweater would be nice. Here I go again, back to the closet. Searching from the left, searching from the right. What the heck? Where is my black dressy sweater? Sit. Sip your morning tea. Write a slice of life. Clear your mind of the morning fog. All will be well.

As I stew in my early morning confusion, I remember a preschooler's adorable and witty folktale...after week's of reading, dramatizing, and re-telling folktales together, every child has shared their own. (These will be on display tonight as well!) One preschooler recalled a family 'censure' of her older brother and wove this into her tale -

Adam. My Mom get angry with him because Adam says "What the heck!" A sorceress comes to Adam. She laughs at Adam. She cuts his hair off. Adam goes back home. My Mom and my Dad and Kevin and I say, "That's crazy!" And my Mom says, "What the heck!"
                    The End

How did this happen?

This is a 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.

"Ms. Ingram! Jack's opened something he's not supposed to!"

Try as I might, lunch in my classroom is a loud, lively, unsettling part of my day. 22 preschoolers, four tables, innumerable containers to be opened by hands that are just developing the skills...with three teachers, it can feel as if you are never in the right place at the right time. Lunch is an unending pattern of wiggly bodies moving in their seats, chairs scraping the floor, lunch boxes refusing to open or close properly, children calling out for help in opening things, items falling on the floor, spills that need wiping up, some food getting trashed before it is tasted, children rushing to the bathroom, on and on.

In the midst of this fray, here's what I hear:
"Ms. Ingram! Jack's opened something he's not supposed to!"

I walk over towards that lunch table of preschoolers and what do I find? Jack looking at me wide-eyed and a packet of silica gel sprinkled all over the table - silica gel that was inside the package of one of his lunch foods [seaweed]. Jack said indignantly, "It is part of my lunch but she says it is not!" Jack thought the silica gel was a condiment - it certainly was packaged like a condiment. In very small letters, you can see the words "do not eat" but, guess what, most preschoolers are not readers.

Thankfully, his classmate had called out to me in alarm;
thankfully, the silica gel missed his food and was emptied onto the table and floor; most thankfully, Jack had not eaten any of it.

How's a child supposed to know not to eat something like that?
How's a teacher supposed to know that this will be included in lunches?
Why is it packaged in this inviting way, much like a sugar or a salt?

One more gray hair on my head.

In recent days, in my local area, one three year old choked to death while eating meatballs at a daycare and one three year old wandered out of her school during nap and was found (and safely returned to school) by a stranger down the street from the school. The outcry is - How did this happen? Where is the supervision? What is wrong with those teachers?

My response is,
I know I am listening, watching, aware,
I know my teaching team is strong, present, vigilant,
I know our routines are sound, tested, considered,
I know my community is connected, supportive, communicative,
I know my school is safe, alert, caring.
My response is,
but for the grace of God.

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.

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.

Tuesday SOL Summer musings

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

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.

Just this week, in the midst of summer, I was sorting through my photos on my phone, collecting my favorites from recent travels. (We traveled to Oregon for the wedding of the daughter of my best friend from college; we had a great time sightseeing and hiking.) I was delighted to see not just these vacation photos, but many fun photos from the last days of the school year...and I find myself smiling in memory. 

Let me share a few with you....

The Bucket Truck

Rain didn't stop us from heading outside to play on this day. But the showstopper was this repair truck - the children were riveted, studying every move. Children call us to be present, so curious about the world, finding joy in their surroundings.

Water Play Day

Our traditional "splash day" was also an overcast, rainy day...and our location was the crumbled surrounds of a community center behind our school (scheduled to be renovated and revamped this next year!). But that didn't stop the children from having such a great time outside, enjoying the hoses, buckets, spray bottles, sidewalk chalk, and more.

The Tablecloth

We created a process art tablecloth/dropcloth for our Teaching Resident (Ms. Kim) as an end-of-year gift. The children used found objects and nature items to stamp prints all over the canvas, choosing their favorite colors. They also used fabric markers to sign their name on the cloth. We're hoping that Ms. Kim will use this cloth for 'messy' activities in her new classroom, and remember this sweet class of preschoolers every time she does.

Marble Art

The first art activity the children experienced in the Big Cats was doing marble art on a nametag. At the beginning of the year, this was a teacher-led and supervised project. Here, at the end of the year, the children ran the project themselves - selecting paper, paint colors, dropping marbles into the paint, and rolling these onto paper. Everyone had a grand time and even enjoyed cleaning the table and supplies at the end. I got to marvel at how much everyone had grown during this year. 

Balls, Cars, Blocks, and Ramps

There was incessant creativity in the block corner these last few weeks of school, as if the children were well aware that they would no longer have access to these open-ended building materials. I was amazed by the teamwork, how well the preschoolers worked together, sharing the materials and ideas.

The Family Book

This was our favorite book to read - with individual pages about each child and family, created by the families themselves. Here, the children are helping me to stuff these pages into their portfolios, so that the pages are returned home at the end of the year. But, these boys are transfixed - not wanting to take the pages out of the book but seeking to re-read the pages about each other, noticing who's who. It is amazing how much we learn about one another during a school year.

Engineering with Recylables

We had a "free for all" with the recyclables, with me issuing an open invitation for children to create and invent with abandon. 

Helping Clean the Classroom

We had created a train track out of tape on part of our classroom floor and the children worked diligently and tirelessly to remove it, to help Mr. Thomas (our Building Manager). Again, I am awed by the focus and tenacity of young children when they desire to accomplish something.

Field Day Fun

I think we had the hottest and sunniest day of the school year for our traditional field day - but that didn't stop these preschoolers from running non-stop.

Signing the Goodbye Board

They had helped us clean the room and put away all the toys, supplies, materials. Now it was time to practice their writing skills one more time, using the whiteboard markers.

I really enjoyed this past year of teaching...I worked with a delightful group of preschoolers and their families, I had a strong teaching team, I love the physical space of my classroom in our new and permanent school building. It is fun to go down memory lane in the midst of summer!

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. 

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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.