Tuesday SOL - Have you noticed me?

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 stepped out of a workshop called "Building a Trauma-Informed Classroom," and into the metro underground. My head and heart were filled with information. 

They had just stepped through the metro turnstiles, coming towards me. She appeared to be a young mother, certainly no more than 20 or 21. He was running alongside her, scampering in that unpredictable way that a two year old does. I started to smile at his sweet look. She yelled to him, "You better  #$@&%*! -ing stop! I am sick of you! What the #$@&%*! you think you're doing?" I averted my eyes. 

One "ACE." At least.

Adverse Childhood Experiences - ACEs

ACEs are those stressful, perhaps even traumatic factors that children are just born into, through no fault of their own, that will trouble them all their life: parents or caregivers who abuse drugs or alcohol, have a bitter divorce, become incarcerated, suffer acute health issues, practice emotional or physical abuse, live in acute poverty, suffer unemployment or homelessness...there are innumerable ACEs. 

According to the workshop leader, Dr. Megan McCormick-King of Insite Solutions, 37% of D.C. kids have at least one ACE; 11% of D.C. kids have four or more ACEs. The risk of developmental delays is more acute in children with four or more ACEs. Further, the risk of early death is more likely with four or more ACEs.

Although these statistics are depressing, the workshop was also hopeful. It heartened me to hear that children become resilient with consistent and responsive relationships, overcoming much of the harm from these adverse childhood experiences. The importance of my work as a preschool teacher was clear - to create a safe, happy early childhood classroom, where teachers are focused and mindful about each of their students. Every young child deserves "unconditional positive regard" - and such interaction feeds the growing brain in amazing, restorative ways. Here are just a couple tidbits that I hope to weave into my teaching in the days and years to come:

• Create opportunities for "Serve and Return" - the simple back and forth between a child and caregiver, allowing the child to 'serve' an idea and, allow me - the caregiver - to meet the child right there at that idea, and converse about it, play along...let the child lead.
• When I see those challenging behaviors - consider for a minute, what 'Serve and Return' behaviors are not being met? Is the child acknowledged/noticed/seen on the most basic level?
• Be sure to acknowledge children, to send the consistent message - "I see you, I hear you." 
• Help children build strategies for waiting and soothing, such as deep breathing, taking a break, having a safe space.
• For those truly challenging children, build a relationship with special emphasis on 'non-contingency' time - time when you let the child direct the play. Dare to give the child five minutes of time when everything he does is noticed and acknowledged, but not questioned or critiqued. (There is a whole training for this technique - Teacher Child Interactive Training (TCIT), which I will most certainly look into.) 

It was a fabulous workshop...this one small slice hardly does it justice. 

Let me circle back to the young mother in the metro, yelling at her small child. I averted my eyes, speechless, stunned, feeling raw from the workshop. Right behind me was a young man, all of about 14 - and he spoke up. He yelled "Stop speaking to your child like that!" She quickly retorted, "Shut up!," and kept walking the other direction, but I wonder if he planted a seed. 

This left me hopeful, too. It takes everyone of us, paying attention to our young children.

sol17-23 Who are we?

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.

Note - you know you are using new "thinking" muscles when you wake up in the middle of the night with a clear idea for a slice...that's exactly what happened here, proving this daily writing challenge is such a good habit! 

Let's call her Lillian. She is one of my calm, predictable children. She is always eager to see what is happening in a small group, 'ready to go' when you call her name. She is pleasant with her classmates, going along with their ideas and sometimes suggesting her own. I would like to hear a more independent voice from her, I'd like to hear more of her ideas. In conflicts, she might be reduced to tears and come find me to help resolve, but she is never physical in her reactions. Although this last note is such an asset in a bustling classroom of preschoolers, I would like to see her assert herself when she feels wronged. In short, we adore Lillian and she is a very engaged and happy preschooler.

Fast forward - Dad comes to pick Lillian up at the end of the school day; he has picked up her older brother Calvin first. Calvin is a third grader and, though I never taught him, I sense that he has much the same temperament as his sister. It is atypical for Dad to pick up Calvin first; typically Lillian goes with Dad to get Calvin. Anyhow, Calvin is happily finishing his classroom snack, a packet of fruit snacks.

Here's where I was simply stunned -

Lillian rushes over to him and loudly, vehemently demands "Give me one!" and Calvin smiles, turns his body away from her, and says "No, they are all gone" and takes his last bite with a satisfied gulp. Without a moment's hesitation, Lillian starts to beat on Calvin - both fists, bam, bam, bam. The older brother giggles and moves away quickly, but Lillian screams at him and begins to chase him down. I have never seen her angry like this! (Deftly, Dad grabs Lillian by the hand and quickly exits the room with both children.)

Truly, from my perspective - Lillian went from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.

I wonder, how hard is it for Lillian to be so 'good' each day in preschool? Is school simply a safer place, surrounded by people who she knows less well? Or, is she 'on guard' at school? Is this a good thing? (For my daily reality as her teacher, it is certainly a good thing - my work would be so much more difficult if she were so physical in her conflicts!)

I think about how attuned I was to her social-emotional learning - how I would like to see her assert herself when she feels wronged. I bet these words would sound pretty funny to her family, who know her best in her role as sibling to Calvin.

Who are we, really?
Are we our real selves around family?
Do we act differently with different people?
When are we wearing a mask, acting a role, doing something less authentic?

Tuesday SOL Preschoolers don't need these books anymore

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

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One of my rituals at the end of a school year is to re-read the children's favorite books...
some of which they have chosen for me to read,
but, several are ones that I choose...books that I simply must re-read to them. I know the children used to be attached to these, and when I read them aloud again,
I see the school year flash before all of our eyes.
I see how much the children have grown, and
I see the children's recognition that they have grown.

Let me share just two of these special books.

On the last day of school, I re-read
The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn.
Imagine, at the outset of a school year, how medicinal this book is for a preschooler,
offering a prescription for how to get through the day without Mommy,
holding on to her precious kiss in your hand,
Mommy is with me, Mommy is always with me...Mommy comes back, Mommy always comes back...

In September, I read this one book over and over to particular children,
for whom the process of letting go,
saying goodbye
to Mommy, to Daddy, to Grammy, to whomever,
was so, so difficult.

Now, at the end of the year, how unnecessary this medicine! Look how big these preschoolers are! Ha! They don't cry when their family drops them off in the morning.

The Kissing Hand, so unnecessary now, yet, dear and familiar to these children.
They bask in its retelling, studying each page intently... their eyes saying, "I remember."




The children and I had a similar experience with my re-reading of
The Hello/Goodbye Window by Norton Juster (illustrated by Chris Raschka).

I have such a window in my classroom,
where the families can give one final wave or blow a kiss to their child at morning departure.
Every year, at some unscheduled point,
maybe late fall, perhaps mid-winter,
the ritual goes stale, unneeded, no longer relevant.
The once forlorn child now readily immerses herself in her friends and the morning activities,  paying no mind to the window.

(It is a bittersweet moment for me when I see a Dad standing outside the window, mentally begging his child to look up, as if thinking - "Look, see, it's Daddy - one more wave, Daddy's leaving!" Ahhh, but she is playing happily in the room, her goodbye is done. Dad leaves without her noticing.)





This is the growth of a preschooler - not on a specific timeline, but absolute.

Happy summer!

SOLS January days

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

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Due primarily to the fickle January weather, the Big Cats have been spending a lot longer time in centers and going on shorter walks. It is a great time of year to have longer centers. Since winter break, the children are beginning to truly play together, and this emerging cooperative play needs much time, space, and guidance. Centers are just the structure!

During centers, children work in small groups on a variety of activities, playing alongside one another. Often, the task needs to be done "together" - requiring children to talk, share, and work together.

For me, the main purpose of centers is for fostering healthy, friendly social-emotional interactions. Oh sure, I can name the specifics of math, literacy, science, engineering, or other learning that is happening in my classroom; I can even cite the particular learning standard that is being worked on in any given center. But, what excites me and drives me is helping children work with one another.  Since winter break, and the children's renewed and accelerated interest in being together, I've been on overdrive....

The children are in constant motion, moving readily from one interest to the next...learning to share, learning to take turns, learning to be aware of others, learning to have fun together. I'm their "guide on the side," noticing...

[   ] looks sad - is there a way that she can play, too? Have you asked her if she would like to play? 

Is that a safe way to use that?

Does [  ] have enough materials? Look at how much he has and how much you have - which is more? 

I see you really want to play with this, but [ ] had it first. Ask her if you can use it when she is through.

You bumped into [ ] - have you checked in with him, to see if he is okay?

How might you two play this together and have fun?

Slow your engine down. You are moving very fast! 


Did you build that? Remember our classroom rule - you build it, you may knock it down. You should help her rebuild that. Next time, ask if you can knock that block structure down.

Tell him you didn't like it when he did that. 

In board games, we take turns with the dice. Have you finished your turn? Who is next? Hand the dice to [ ].

I saw you cover your ears; was his voice too loud? Tell him that his voice is hurting your ears.  

You want to play with a toy cell phone, too? Let's ask if [ ] if you can play with one of the two he has. 

Do you want to use that next? 

Ooops. [ ] is hurting. Let's go together to get ice.

Even the children seem to know that social-emotional learning is the most important work in the room.
Example, many preschoolers were exploring ice and salt; I asked one student,
"What happens when you add salt to the ice?"
and she immediately responded,
"[  ] bumps my arm."
My laugh for the day!

Today, we had one real sign that it was a rainy day and we were trapped inside - an impromptu game of ball began in the classroom, using a very lightweight, soft, fuzzy ball [we had used this same ball to throw to one another at Gathering, to say good morning to each other].  I'm not sure if the children were playing soccer or basketball...it was a spontaneous, fast-paced, motion-filled game played by Micaela, Evan, Zuren, Alyja, Ada, and Hughie – but only briefly. Jasmine, dressed in an apron and tutu, and playing "family" was surprised and disturbed by this impulsive game and yelled in her most authoritative voice, “Boys! I am angry! Don’t play basketball in the house!” [Of course, the list of players assures you that this was not a boys' game!] Before I could even respond - to either the game or her upset - the ball went soaring through the air and became trapped in the ductwork of our classroom ceiling, some 12 feet above us. Silence came over the room.

We now have an on-going inquiry – How to get the ball down? Today’s suggestions: A tow hook (Hughie); a ladder (Zuren); I’ll fly up there and get it (Seymour); a lasso (Shaan).

January days, January learning, January fun.
Rich and varied moments together.

What if you don't like the change in routine?

I learn and re-learn every day.

Case in point - 

The week before winter break, our school was celebrating "Intersession." For one hour a day - during what is typically centers time or choice time - students work in mixed-age, small groups on a single, fun topic.  Preschoolers, pre-K, and Kindergarteners participated together in classes such as "Fitness," "Cooking," "Beading," "Yoga." Intersession is a lot of fun, giving both teachers and students a break from their normal routine and an opportunity to explore a topic in a new way. It is a festive, enthusiastic, and invigorating time throughout the school, the perfect change in schedule for the week before winter break.

I had the opportunity to be a "floater teacher" during Intersession, which was a really fun change for me. My responsibilities were to visit/check in on the early childhood Intersession classes and ensure that everything was going smoothly.

One of my little ones had a tough time with the change in schedule.
He cried and stalled and struggled with us, when it was time to line up for Intersession.
During his special class - his favorite topic, even - the lead teacher said he was disruptive, hurting others in the class, and trying to run from the room.

I have seen some of this same challenging behavior in our classroom.

This is my struggle  -
how to help children be successful with others and in new situations,
how to meet children where they are and, simultaneously, stretch them to a new possibility,
how to juggle the difficult, challenging one in the midst of many other children and needs,
in the midst of the school schedule.

During Intersession,
the lead teacher was unable to manage him and
I spent the rest of one morning with him by my side,
walking the school.

He didn't like this, either.

Have you had the experience of being around a headstrong three year old who doesn't want to do something? 
Oh my.
Suffice to say, it was a very long morning of togetherness.

I didn't like this, either.

At home,
reflecting on the difficult day,
(actually, only a difficult morning, 
yet one that gave a residual bad flavor to the rest of the day)
I realized
- specifics of his challenging behavior aside -
he was refusing to participate,
refusing to try something new.

Change in routine is hard for him;
I know this;
I have known this;
he is telling me this, loud and clear.

He simply didn't have anything left to "give."
He needed our routine to be the same, to go back to the way it was, to be normal.
It was very "three year old" of him.

But, alas, this was not to be - Intersession had yet another day to go,
another disruptive, confusing day for this three year old child.

(Another long day for his teachers.)

What to do?

My instincts...actually, my exhaustion...said
"Well, he's just going to have to get through it."

That is not by any means my best teacher voice.
That is a distant, punitive, reactive voice that runs through me when I'm tired -
a voice that wants to say to a child, "Stop that behavior right now!,"
a manner of thinking that pretends adults control children,
rather than guiding children to develop self-control.

Reflection helped me get past the reactive.

The next day,
last day of Intersession,
I switched places with the assisting teacher in his Intersession class.
I asked this teacher to float through the building and check on all the other classes, and
I spent the morning playing with my challenging friend,
alongside him during this new experience,
modeling for him the fun of the new.
He was surprised and delighted that I was there with him.

It was just what he needed.

Throughout the morning,
he laughed and laughed,
he played with others.
he was successful.

Later, my principal asked him about his Intersession class and he enthusiastically responded,
"Ms. Ingram came with me!!"

We have to meet children where they are.

Some "small changes" are
too big a leap
for some children.

He'll make the leap in time.

I learn and re-learn every day.

What about voting?

In light of the national elections, thought I'd have a little fun.

We had to decide which of two Betta fish to keep, and
which one to give to the other preschool class -
Red Fish or Blue Fish?

So, we took a vote.


The Blue Fish won by one single vote.
Clearly, we have a divided electorate.
The Red Fish would be given to our neighbors.

The divided electorate was not happy.

Several children spoke up when we got the Red Fish ready for its trip next door....


"No, Ms. Ingram, I said we keep the Red Fish."

"Yes, I know that you voted for the Red Fish, but more children voted for the Blue Fish.  We will keep the Blue Fish."

"No, Ms. Ingram, I said we keep the Red Fish.  Not the Blue Fish."


These voters were unable to see past themselves.
These voters have no appreciation or understanding of another point of view.



Perhaps the naming of our Blue Fish would go better?

"Let's brainstorm some names for our class fish...."

The nominations poured in...

Hero.
Flo fish.
Nemo.
Blue One.
Dinosaur.
Pirate.
Sharkie.
Pablo.
Clifford.
Princess.
Fish.
Pillow.

On and on, as many names as there were students.
Yikes, how was this going to work? 

These voters were unable to see past themselves.
These voters have no appreciation or understanding of the other point of view.

"Let's vote..."

I had children vote with their bodies,
with me calling out each nomination one by one,
asking the children to stand when they wanted to vote for the called name, and then
move to the other side of the room,
making their votes visually clear to one and all, and
ensuring that every child only voted once.

Several children were upset that they could not vote again.  Or change their vote.

As you might expect, most fish names got one single vote.


In the end, Sharkie received three votes and won the naming contest.  And yet, upon reflection, had I unwittingly mislead or confused the voters?  Was there lack of clarity in the procedure for voting?  Were the voting rules unanimously understood?

"Are you voting for Sharkie?"
"I want Clifford."
"I haven't called Clifford yet.  I just called 'Sharkie' and you stood up, which means you are voting for Sharkie.  If you want Clifford, you need to sit down right now."

The voter throws herself down onto the floor in tears.  "I want Clifford!"


It can be very hard when your candidate does not appear to be doing very well.
It is particularly hard when your candidate loses.

These voters were unable to see past themselves.
These voters have no appreciation or understanding of the other point of view.

It remains to be seen,
how will Sharkie the Blue Fish be accepted by such a divisive populace?

Culling my way down memory lane

One of the beautiful things about summer is having time to sift through things and get rid of the unnecessary, the outgrown, the irrelevant.

Well, my most recent foray has been our piles of papers in the back room.  How did we accumulate so many?  This is borderline hoarding.  Time for action.

Lo and behold, I come across this "growth chart" for my then preschooler Keith (now 23 years old!):

Not entirely sure why I kept this, because, from the looks of it, I didn't use it very long!  He has stickers only through the third column.  Did each column represent days? Weeks?

I read through the goals of the chart and I am transported down memory lane....

Handles his anger successfully, Respects/loves Wade (his infant brother at this time) -

Keith is 2 1/2 years older than his brother, Wade...I remember how surprised I was at the effect of Wade on Keith...much happiness, much joy, yes; but, unexpected meanness, too, a jealousy, coming from out of nowhere, seemingly. It was no longer little Keith alone with Mommy. There was a daily sharing of Mommy.  

I saw real frustration in the little guy when he was three and four years of age.

I remember had so many questions, so many concerns! He was my first, my entryway into how to raise a child.  I wanted to parent him differently than I had been. My own childhood was in a home of "eggshell walking" - with a mother who had severe mental health issues, we treaded carefully and quietly around the house, not disturbing, not upsetting, not rattling her.  I didn't want a child who swallowed his emotions, like me.  I knew how essential it was to raise my child differently, more healthfully. But how to teach him?

We both had so much to learn about how to express anger and frustration.

I am aware of the enormous role my sons' preschool and Pre-K teachers had in the life of my young family.  I am so thankful for these wonderful women, who helped me understand my three boys as individuals.  They modeled ways to talk to, play with, and discipline my children, provided books, articles, and websites as resources, helped me find answers to my questions.  Their guidance helped me to be a better parent.  

Dresses without argument

Keith's preschool years were my first introduction to "sensory issues" - again, thank you preschool teachers!

How we struggled over what he would wear.   He would get so angry! Oh my.
"That feels swishy, Mommy."
The seams in his socks, if not "just so" on his feet, would drive him wild.

I remember his wonderful Pre-K teacher, Mary Landsman, explained how sometimes the tightness or texture of clothing is like a fingernail on a chalkboard to a young child - like so much loud noise in their ears - rendering them incapable of thinking about anything else, stuck and angry.  She helped me to see how important it was to not hold my child to some aberrant, adult-driven rule,
"Wear these or else" or
"You can't wear those because you wore them yesterday,"
but to have him help to choose the clothing, to let go of fashion, to allow him to wear the same thing day in or day out.  That year, he wore the same pair of green sweatpants to school everyday.  (Thank goodness for laundry machines and the freedom to use them overnight.)

Gives Mom and Dad privacy, Stays quiet in bed, Eats without argument,

I am aware of how important it is for parents of young children to see and understand how they are creating the rituals and traditions,
the expectations,
the norms,
for how children should interact with one another and with adults.  Parents of young children are shaping a family.  It doesn't happen in an instant, but many, many opportunities over time.

In these early years, we took awkward first steps at setting family expectations for staying in one's bed, eating as a family (and appreciating the chef!), and giving one another space.  It wasn't automatic. I remember tearful dinners and exhausting good night routines.  But we were making steady progress.  Over time, we created family traditions, our family "way."

These imperfect days led to a home where
we don't yell at one another,
we get frustrated and take a deep breath and figure out how to talk about it,
we are allowed to question things and to do things differently from one another,
we enjoy our family meals and evenings together, and
our time apart.

It helps to have a supportive, loving partner in this parenting, as I have had (thank you, Tony!).  And fantastic preschool teachers along the way - thank you Irene, Mary, Cindy, Janise, and Mindy!

Yes,
I'm not entirely sure why I kept this chart.

With hindsight, the list of "goals" seems like a lot at once for a young child; if I had a do-over, I'd isolate one of the goals and work on that only.  (Often success in one area has positive effects elsewhere.)

Truly, I'm not sure where I stand on behavior charts like these for preschoolers.  I definitely don't like them in a classroom as a public display, where children might be pitted against one another, leading to a sense of isolation and defeat for those who do not achieve.

However, perhaps they are useful for a parent or teacher to have with a child, one on one?  I wonder if some young children might benefit from having a visual aid that isolates specific small issues/goals to work on?  Charts allow you to voice the issue in a non-emotional way - helping the child to work towards specific goals.  

Certainly, charts like this are great for reflection, twenty years later....
It has served its purpose.  Time to throw it out! ;-)

Tuesday SOL - One real positive this year

This post is for the Tuesday Slice of Life writing challenge on Two Writing Teachers.



The children were last seen in the school on Friday, June 15th, but, their voices echoed.

We teachers spent busy, long days last week packing up our classrooms for our move this summer to a wonderful new location.

In the midst of the packing, we had several focused discussions about specific issues, both to wrap up this founding year of our school and looking ahead to year two.

In the midst of the packing, we took time to meet and share about our children.

I love being part of a staff that is truly all about the children.

I love how
we know about each other's students,
we embrace the time to share about specific issues,
we make these our whole school's issues.

Certain children need more.  It's as simple as that.

We shared about successes, we shared about continued challenges...their struggles, their "stuckness," their beings.

In the midst of the packing, we had "kid talk," all of us embracing the time, respecting the need for this time.  Time to hone in on what worked, what went wrong with specific children...considering their struggles, changes that are needed, ways we might support the child and family better, how to make changes in our teaching and across classrooms, in the school as a whole, to better support the child.  Were there common unmet needs?  Were there successful strategies? How might we work together to guide this student?

As I reflect this summer, I am happily aware that I love spending time with my colleagues.

I love how
we listen to one another's challenges in the classroom,
we draw a difficult child in rather than push them away,
we welcome older students to "catch a breath" in younger students' classrooms,
we have high expectations for their learning,
we seek to know the child.

Yes, we spent time on children, and the packing got short shrift.

I started off so controlled and organized - specific boxes marked "math manipulatives," "dramatic play - hospital," "engineering."  As time and spirit failed, it became a mad rush to just get everything into boxes, a frenzied, chaotic, get it done, I am fried, I need to go home conclusion to the year.

I'll find time in August to sort through those materials.

I'm glad we spent time on children.

What about older students?

For years, I've worked at a preschool that was simply that, a preschool - a sweet campus full of two, three, four, and "just turned five" year old children.

This year, my preschool class of three year olds is embedded in an elementary school, a brand new school that has children through third grade (and in subsequent years, we will grow one older classroom a year until we are a campus of preschool through eighth grade).


I am really enjoying having older students in the same building.
I am noticing many very special relationships forming.
I am noticing that there are so many positives for both the younger and the older children.
And their teachers.

Each of the younger classes has been paired with an older class. My preschoolers are paired with Ms. Kopsidas' first grade class. Every Friday, we visit one another for 20-30 minutes (just long enough, from a 3 year old's perspective!)...we read books and do art projects together. We have even done some engineering together!

Visiting the first grade classroom is a highlight of the week.

I love how my students look up to the bigger kids. My threes look at these older students with pure admiration. (My most rambunctious children go positively quiet - in awe, perhaps?) Our time together is consistently sweet.


In addition to these planned, whole class get-togethers, we have nurtured relationships between individual elementary students and the preschoolers, as part of our school-wide discipline approach.

We teachers are committed to having a school environment that pays attention to the social-emotional needs of all our students.

Since this is our very first year - a brand new school - the older students (first, second, and third graders) have educational stories that we don't fully know - mysteries really, that we are trying to discern.
Some of these students - although no more than seven or eight years old - already have powerful internal voices that shout
"I'm not capable!! I can't!!"
Perhaps they feel unsuccessful at reading, or math, or making a friend.

Their teachers see the frustration and anger played out in all different ways, ranging from
shutting down, going quiet, and refusing to participate
to
flailing, yelling, and even hitting.

For these children, having little ones on campus is an extraordinary gift.

As a staff, we asked ourselves,
What do these challenging older students need?
We decided to do a pretty radical thing. We agreed to welcome older students as visitors to our younger classrooms...when a scene change is needed.
We welcome the older student to visit the younger classroom and start anew.
We don't chastise the visitor.
[You won't hear us speak sharply, "Sit over there and be quiet!".
Where did we get the idea that children won't do the right thing without consistent rebuke and recrimination?]
Instead, we invite them to join us in whatever we are doing.

I have had students arrive during our centers time and begin to play alongside. They have joined us at nap time and helped us pat the children on the back, to get them to sleep. Sometimes they come into the classroom and read books to my students.

Let me share an example:

Recently a third grader visited us during centers, a big scowl on her face. I knew something must have been going wrong in her homeroom, but I smiled at her and welcomed her to join us. I invited her to help the children at the clay table and she immediately put on a smock and rolled up her sleeves. She showed the children how to make a clay mold of their own hands. I was amused and delighted by her observation about the children, while using the clay – “They sure use a lot of materials!” [Yes, preschoolers do – and this is how our learning works best with this age group, a materials rich environment, open-ended, exploratory, allowing children to make decisions for themselves, to feel less threatened – to provide the sense that there are ample resources.] This young girl stayed with us only for about 15 minutes, during which time she witnessed a tantrum by one of my students and she helped to soothe the child. She returned to her classroom with her head held high.

Whenever my students are at the clay center, they still try to create a clay mold of their hands - just like they learned from their older friend that day.

Preschoolers are thrilled to have an older student visit. To have an older child walk into the room is to have a rock star stop by! The children gleefully call out his name and they race to his side.
I love how the older student swells with pride,
whatever was wrong is forgotten.
They are the cool person now.
Competent. Able. Needed. Important.
I believe this empowers these children, helps them feel needed, that they belong, that they have purpose.

I have no doubt that our school-wide approach to focus on the social-emotional first and foremost is pivotal to these elementary school students becoming great learners. Unless we help them in social-emotional terms, academic achievement is not in their grasp.


It is so very special to have older children in the same building!
I love this community of ours.



The most unlovable child is the most in need of love.