Category: Learning Differences

Sew Easy: Lessons in Perseverance

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There are three rites of passage in the Wonder Studio: using the hot glue gun, working a hack saw, and learning to sew. The joyful expressions on students’ faces as they learn these skills are salve for my weary teacher’s soul.  These small accomplishments remind me of my original purpose when designing the Wonder Studio. Student agency was key.  I want to provide a safe place in which to make mistakes and grow confidence.  Sometimes, I get lulled into the belief that it’s just a messy place where kids spill paint, smear glue, and don’t adequately clean up. And then there are those moments when Susie uses the hacksaw for the first time and loudly proclaims, “I just use the hack saw! It was fun!” Beaming from ear to ear, she lifts up two pieces of wood to show everyone her handiwork. 

Sometimes, success takes a while, sometimes we need to overcome our fears first.  This was the case for Liv, who needed to hot glue small pieces for an intricate wooden spinning fidget that she was constructing.  She was afraid of using the hot glue gun, so I offered to glue the pieces.  Liv was not satisfied with the job I had done: too much glue and not quite in the exact perfect spot.  My big hands couldn’t execute the results she had desired.  Over the course of the next week, Liv got up the courage to use the hot glue gun herself.  She put together her fidget just as she had imagined. 

Then she quietly came up to me and said, “I am so proud of myself.”

“Yes, it is beautiful,” I said.

“Not for making it, Mrs. Emery. I’m proud that I overcame my fear of the glue gun.”

I chuckled and slapped her a high five, “Hooray for you!” I said.

The once hesitant, shy Liv is now master of the glue gun.  This experience of playing and experimenting with materials is essential for building confidence and character.

This week, Allie sat down next to me and expressed her desire to learn to sew. I agreed to show her.  Allie wanted to make a small drawstring pouch in which to collect pom-poms.  Doesn’t everyone?  I first traced a circle on a piece of colorful fabric.  Then Allie cut out the circle.  I outlined in pencil the track in which Lynne should sew.  I threaded a needle and asked her to watch me.  Allie became agitated. She started to recount all the reasons why she couldn’t learn how to sew.  Tears formed in her eyes, and she abruptly stood up ready to flee.  I motioned for her to sit back down. 

“I can’t do it! You have to show me,” she said. 

“Allie, listen.  Take a deep breath.  That’s what I’ve been doing,” I said calmly.

“You have to show me!” she demanded.

“Yes, but you have to look at me. Look at my hands.  Watch what I’m doing,”

She began to relax and concentrate on my hands. 

I began to verbalize my actions, “Up, pull through, down, pull though,” over and over again.

Then I handed the needle to Allie.  She began one stitch, two stitches, then over the edge of the fabric. Oh, no – a mistake.  Allie froze, she stood up, and tears well in her eyes again, “I can’t do it!” she yelled.

I reached out my hand, “It’s okay.  It’s okay.  That’s a very common mistake. I made that mistake a hundred times when I was learning to sew.”

She looked at me skeptically.

“You think that I never make mistakes?” I asked.

“Yes, you are perfect,” she declared seriously.

I laughed,” I make mistakes all the time.  It may look like things are easy for me because I’m old.  But I couldn’t learn anything if I didn’t make mistakes.  Mistakes are opportunities to learn.”

I pulled out the floss, threaded the needle again, and handed it back to Allie.  She sat down and began again.  She sewed all the way around the circle.  I clapped and smiled.  She grinned from ear to ear.  I pulled the drawstring and the circle magically became a pouch.  Allie put in her selected pom-poms.

“Allie, I’m going to help Liv. Make sure that you don’t cut the ends of the floss,” I said and left her for a few minutes.”

When I returned the floss ends were cut short.  I looked at Allie astonished, “Why did you cut the floss ends?”

“Because I didn’t want the long strings hanging,” she explained, adding that another girl told her to cut them.  The other girl loudly denied it.

“I told you not to cut them, Allie.  I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t know why you said that.  I didn’t know what would happened,” she replied looking scared.

“It’s okay,” I said, pulling out the thread and hold up the fabric circle, “Now you have the needle track to guide you. It will be easier this time.”

Allie dried her eyes and took the circle from me.  She began again and made no mistakes.  When she was done, we refilled it with colorful pompoms.  I showed Allie how to carefully put the drawstrings and tie them in a bow so she could easily open and close her precious pouch.

Allie did learn to sew last Thursday, but she leaned so much more.  She learned to never give up, to always try again, and to persevere even when things got hard, especially when things got hard.  And most of all, always push past your mistakes and push through your fear.

Later that day, I was walking down the hallway past Allie’s class.  And there she was, colorful pom-pom pouch in hand showing it off to her admiring classmates like sewing was easy, like she had known how to sew all along.  And this is why I continue to love teaching.  These moments, these times with students, these small important lessons help them grow and make me proud that I continue to be a teacher.

Inside the Wonder Studio: Life in Miniature

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A brave and brilliant 5th grade Wonder Studio crafter wearing kaleidoscope glasses.

When I was in the 5th grade, I loved making miniature replicas of things that I was learning about in school: prairie houses, covered wagons, log cabins, and so much more.  When I read about ancient history, I would make models of castles, pyramids, and I even made a sugar cube Roman Colosseum. I loved designing and building in miniature. I loved the challenge of finding materials that could be used in my creations. My good friend, Roxane, was an expert at sewing tiny families of mice clothed in wonderful Victorian costumes.  I didn’t know how she crafted them so meticulously. My creations definitely looked child-made.  I was so proud of them.  Taking the time to create them deepened my understanding not only of the crafting process, but also of the time period I was endeavoring to replicate.

This month in the Wonder Studio, the 5th graders have been working on a small scale.  No one mandated that they do so.  They all just started making tiny projects.  It might be due to the fact that they are starting a unit in math in which they are required to make tiny houses for clients. The clients are comprised of willing teachers and school staff.  No matter what the reason, this focus on small is age appropriate and well-suited to their developmental level.  Their fingers are now skillful enough to manufacture tiny things, and they are intellectually curious about how various things work.  By making miniature models, they are able to gain a fuller understanding of how the real things work.

This is the 5th graders’ second round in Wonder Studio this year.  They no longer need an introduction to where materials are stored or how to operate simple machines  the hot glue gun, saddle stapler, saw, drill, cardboard scissors, iron, etc.) As soon as we enter the studio, they rush to work.  They all have ideas and are ready to put them into action.

The hot glue guns are very popular!

A group of three students, then four, now six are constructing a model of their classroom to present to their teachers on Teacher Appreciate Day in April. Four students are creating the classroom with foam core, cardboard, and wood scraps.  Two others have labeled themselves “the carpenters,” and are making a series of tiny wooden desks and chairs for the classroom.  I sit back and marvel at their ingenuity.  I jump in when I’m asked for materials or crating assistance.  But the ideas?  The ideas are all theirs.  In these short set of weeks, I’ve seen their confidence and ideas grow.  They are more willing to take risks.  They problem-solve, collaborate, and call on each other’s best skills.  When I witness this natural buzz of creative process, I become so excited because to me this is the essence of learning.  They are in the zone.  They are in what Csikzentmihalyi called the state of flow.

Students make miniature bulletin boards for their tiny classroom model.

Another pair of students have decided to create bakery products.  They are concocting donuts, coffee cakes, and cupcakes with found objects from the Wonder Studio.  One student found a way to make roasted marshmallows. They find things that I didn’t even know we had!  They cut, paint, glue with happy abandon.

Donuts, coffee cake, pie, cake pops, cupcakes and roasted marshmallows!

Anna has brought a small plastic bag with her to the Wonder Studio.  She takes out a miniature pinball machine that she started at home.  It is incredibly tiny, and she is determined to make it work.  I am in awe of her precision. I keep wondering how we can transfer this kind of agency and enthusiasm to regular classroom experiences.  The students always tell me that Wonder Studio should be a “real subject” like math and English.  They want that challenge of coming up with an idea, their own idea, and seeing it grow into a reality. They need time to do this.

Tiny working pinball machine.

Ida, who is unafraid to try something new, excels in Wonder Studio.  I call her “our engineer.”  She loves making tiny replicas of machines that really work (a humane trap, a windmill, a rolling cart – to name a few).  This week, she saw a “That was Easy” button I had on a counter and decided to make one out of cardboard soup container lids.  Ida’s button says, “OOF!” on the top, and when you press it, it makes a soft whooshing sound.  I am amazed and ask her how she constructed it. Ida looks at me like I have just asked the dumbest question on the face of the planet, shrugs her shoulders, and says confidently, “Compressed air.” I am constantly surprised by Ida’s ingenious designs.

Engineers and crafters at work.

These small creations, this work in miniature, garner big results.  The students now own the Wonder Studio.  It is their space.  They know how to use it.  They are no longer hesitant but dive head-long into projects – trying ideas, sometimes abandoning them, but mostly following through and sharing their creations proudly.

A Gift for Story

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John Schu has a gift for story, and he wants to share it with EVERYONE he meets.  This past week, I attended one of John’s professional development workshops sponsored by Rutgers University Center for Literacy Development directed by Dr. Lesley Morrow, my former professor and mentor at the Graduate School of Education.  Throughout the hour, John drew us in and told us his story through the books he’s read.  His mission is to connect readers to stories that will affect and change their lives.

John believes that stories save lives, and he proved it by telling us his life story, weaving events in his childhood to the books that helped him heal and grow.  He was a shy boy, a boy who loved musical theater, a boy who loved to play school complete with his own grade and roll book, chalk, and red pens.  With his imaginary class he could exert control and have some power over his world.

As he recounted his story, he gave vivid book talks about both current books and old favorites.  His generosity is amazing, and he graciously gifted many books to his audience. John has developed what he coins as “the smell test,” because he loves the smell of books.  He rates books using “the smell test,” and makes us laugh.  Books that get high ratings on “the smell test,” have the capacity to touch one’s heart. Tiger Rising was that kind of book for John, and it led to a strong friendship with its author, Kate DiCamillo.  John describes Kate as someone with a “capacious” heart, a term Kate used in her novel, Flora and Ulysses: The Illuminated Adventure to describe a person who is open-hearted, a person who can connect, empathize and heal. Periodically throughout the workshop, John had us chant Kate’s name.  What a wonderful homage to a devoted friend. Good friends like good books are invaluable.

As we got to know John, he opened up more and more about why he became a teacher, a school librarian, then a school library ambassador, and then an author. He was funny and energetic and made us laugh; he was poignant and vulnerable and made us cry.  What John conveyed in his workshop is what a book does every time a reader opens the cover and turns a page.  Story is indeed important.

John had two teachers who served as reading role models.  One was Dr. Mary Margaret Reed, who was his 5th grade teacher.  She was exuberant and eccentric and a reader.  She knew how to entice children to read, especially a shy boy who needed some friends and some healing.  John writes about Dr. Reed in The Creativity Project, which was edited by Colby Sharp.  In the book, John wrote a letter to Dr. Reed expressing his admiration and confessing that he stole her copy of Matilda by Roald Dahl  because he so greatly needed that book.  He still has that copy of Matilda. Another reading role model came to John when he was in college.  Her name was Dr. Penny Britton Kolloff. John was eager to become a teacher, and he worked so hard to do his best – maybe too hard.  Dr. Kolloff recognized this, and she told John that to be a teacher one must learn self-care as she put a copy of  A Fine, Fine School by Sharon Creech in his hands. John keeps a copy of the book displayed wherever he’s worked to remind him to keep in the forefront of his mind personal well-being.

At one point, John asked us our definition of story.  I wrote: Story is like breathing in and out.  I could not live without story.  And when children tell me they hate reading, I remind them that they LOVE stories – and they agree.  I remember when I was tutoring dyslexic children, and they would get discouraged because reading was so hard for them.  It was such long, hard, and tedious work.  They would tire and feel disappointed with themselves.  I found ways to encourage them.  I would empathize with them that reading was indeed difficult, but I would also remind them that they LOVED stories.  They would nod their head and agree.  Then, I would read aloud to them to help them energize and enter a story. After I read for a while, we would stop and share our thoughts and have deep conversations about characters, events, and make predictions about what might happen next.  It was that anticipation that kept them going.  They needed to know what was going to happen next.

John told us a great story about the anticipatory joy that reading brings.  He recounted a time when he got a book in the mail and be became so absorbed in it that he spent the day taking the book with him to his living room chair,  over to the refrigerator, back to the chair, then into the bathroom, then back to the chair and round and round again and again until he had only five pages left.  That’s when a monumental decision loomed: finish the book or make it last a little longer.  As avid readers we do not want the story to end.  So John decided to go to sleep with the five pages unread.  Of course, he tossed and turned in bed. He needed to know the ending of this now beloved story.  He got up, went downstairs, sat in his comfy chair, and read the ending, tears flowing down his face. The story was complete.  The book? The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate.  The story had changed him like all good stories do. John spent a lot of time telling everyone he could about The One and Only Ivan. It was a treasure he wanted to share.  He even got a chance to meet Ivan and have Ivan autograph his copy of the book, by signing with his thumbprint in green.

This day with John was well spent. I now have a longer list of books to read, I have a box full of books from Amazon on their way, I have a renewed love of story, and I have found a kindred spirit and book whisperer extraordinaire.

Books by Mr. Schu

Connect with Mr. Schu

Some of the Books that Pass Mr. Schu’s Smell Test

Rainbow Writing with Kindergarteners

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I count myself fortunate.  My busy job includes spending time with kindergarten writers and there is no greater joy than that.  Since September, these novice writers have grown steadily.  First, they drew their stories and told them to each other.  Eventually, they began to write their stories instead of saying them aloud.  They valiantly sounded out each letter until they formed the approximate word.  Most times they could read back what they had written.  When they couldn’t read it back, they looked at their picture and found other words.  Writing in Kindergarten takes a great amount of perseverance and faith. Their stick-to-itiveness is remarkable.  They are a determined lot.

That’s why I was not surprised when I came to my weekly writing workshop on a Monday afternoon in mid-February to see all the kindergarten writers busy working on various steps in the writing process: brainstorming, planning, drafting, conferring with a teacher, and finally creating a cover for publication. When I stepped inside the doorway, several of them immediately called to me. 

“Sit here!” 

“Sit with us!” 

“Come write with us,” one girl called and patted the chair next to her.

It is good to have five-year-old friends who are writers.  They are welcoming and affirming.  I sat down and asked what they were working on.  They readily shared their drawings and stories.  One of them commanded, “Write a story.”

I smiled.  I have been joining them for writing workshop for six months now, and almost every time I make sure that they see me writing.  I have explained to our teachers that writing with your students is as important (and I dare say – more important) that conferring with them.  When children see you write, they better understand the process and can learn how you go about planning, composing, and revising.  This type of showing is so much better than telling.

Though I know writing with children is important, I wasn’t sure that the children had noticed.  However, this past week proved that the children do indeed take notice and that they want adults to join them in the writing process rather than always being the facilitator or editor.  Writing alongside them actually wields more power – makes a greater impact.

So, I steady myself on the kindergarten-sized chair and I ask, “What should I write about?”

“Rainbows,” Charlotte explains.

I chuckle, and think to myself, “Of course, kindergarten girls – rainbows indeed.”

One of them runs off to get me three sheets of paper.  They are learning to write a story in three parts: beginning, middle, and end.  I take the paper and bend my head towards the table.  I do not look up but instead concentrate carefully on what I want to write.  I start with a picture.  I draw two giant clouds and then I get an idea.  I start to draw small cats dropping out of one cloud and small dogs dropping out of the other.

“What is she doing?” whispers one of them.

“Look!” whispers another.

I do not raise my head or say anything.  I keep concentrating.

They begin to giggle.  “Dogs and cats are falling,”  one of them declares.

One of them hops up excitedly, “It’s raining cats and dogs!” she screams.“I know what that means.  I know what that means!”  Julie shouts.

She bends down next to me and tucks her face two inches from mine. I can’t help but stop and look at her.

“It means it is raining very hard,” Julie explains.

I smile and nod my head.  I flip the page and start drawing a giant puddle.

“What’s that?” one of them asks.

“It’s a puddle!’’ another answers.

“I know. I know.  The dogs and cats are going to drop into the puddle!” Julie  predicts.

I have never had so much fun writing a story.  These young writers are thoroughly engaged and engaging.  They continue with their work, and we write together quietly.  Sometimes one of them will offer me an orange pencil so I can color in one of the cats. 

            A shy student who was sitting at another table comes over to me, encouraged by her teacher.  She hands her book to me. 

            “Oh, you finished your story, Olivia!” I say.  She nods her head.

            “I’d like to hear it.  Will you read it to me?”  I ask gently.

            Olivia nods her head again.

She is very shy and tentative.  She speaks softly, and we have spent the year encouraging her and giving her opportunities to speak.  From her drawings and writing, it is clear Olivia has a lot to say.  She has sophisticated thoughts that we might have missed if we didn’t give her and her classmates this time to imagine and create.

Soon, writing workshop time comes to an end, and they gather together in the authors’ circle.  I leave my rainbow story for them to read at another time as Olivia raises her hand to share.

A More Beautiful Question Revisited

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Almost a decade after reading  Warren Berger’s A More Beautiful Question: The Power of Inquiry to Spark Breakthrough Ideas, I decided to re-read it, since it is such a thought-provoking book. I’m reading it in little pieces now, savoring each idea!  One nugget I read this week was about the amount of questions children ask.  Young children begin asking “WHY?” and they don’t stop!  Why is the sky blue?  Why can you see the moon during the day? Why do rabbits’ teeth keep growing?  The world is a large place, and little children want to know all about it.  That’s why I became an early childhood teacher 42 years ago.  That’s what I love about visiting the early childhood and elementary classrooms: children keep asking questions, more and more questions.! Of course, that can be exhausting, and you may run out of patience, but that process of asking questions is what separates us from all other species on Earth!  And you know what happens as children get older?  Yes – you are right – they stop asking questions!  

Berger noted that questioning “falls off a cliff” as kids become older.  A Gallup Poll revealed that as students’ progress through the grades, their questioning plummets (76% in elementary school to 44% in high school).  Instead of wondering, older students are busy gathering information and spitting it back in a rote manner.  This leads to massive disengagement from learning.  I was not very surprised by this information, but it did lead me to think and question the classroom practices  I observe each week:  

  • How do we use student questions to spark interest in a topic?  
  • Can the “parking lot” technique be used to display student questions and be a springboard for discussion?  
  • Can we have students generate questions from our essential questions?  
  • Do adults feel like they need to know the answers to all student questions?  
  • What do teachers do when they don’t know the answer?
  • How comfortable are we as adults to ask questions?  

I could go on, but I think you get the idea.  

By honoring students’ questions, teachers facilitate learning, which  is relevant and motivates students to question further and seek out possibilities pertaining to any subject.  To be curious and to question is intrinsic to learning. Berger quotes research scientist, John Seely Brown who explains that “…if you’re comfortable questioning, experimenting, connecting things – then change is something that becomes an adventure.  And if you can see it as an adventure, then you’re off and running.”

This adventurous spirit reminds me of a time when one of my young three-year-old students was outside playing. He suddenly looked up at the sky and was enthralled by the presence of the moon.  He could not take his eyes off the moon and wondered why it was out in the daytime.  In his experience, the moon only came out at night, and now all that he had come to know was in question.  That was an important moment for him as a learner, and it was an important moment for me as a young teacher.  I could have patted his head, given him a cursory answer, and brought his attention back to something tangible like the sandbox.  Instead, I listened and encouraged his questions and helped him to better understand the workings of the universe.  Indeed, this young boy’s curiosity sparked weeks of learning about the nature of the sky for all his classmates. We read countless books about the moon, created a moon surface, made a mural of the phases of the moon, and even built our own lunar explorer.

Teaching is at its most effective when it promotes risk-taking and relentless experimentation, which is the true heart of constructivist teaching. When teachers and students start asking open-ended questions such as: What do we want to learn?  Why do we want to learn it? How will we go about learning it?  How will we show what we’ve learned? – They are constructing curiosity, which will become a lifelong process.  This approach affords multiple avenues for learning, giving teachers and students freedom to learn in a personal, creative, and active way.

Did I piqued your curiosity? Do you ave more questions?  You might want to read and investigate a little further.

Books by Warren Berger

A More Beautiful Question

Beautiful Questions in the Classroom

The Book of Beautiful Questions

Visit Warren’s Blog:

Want to inspire more curiosity and inquiry in kids?

Good Morning, Little Writers!: Conferring in 1st Grade

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Every Tuesday morning, I start my day in writing workshop with 1st graders.  This week, they have been composing narratives about fall. Almost everyone is on their final drafts. Almost everyone, but M., who hasn’t even yet begun. These are the kind of writers I have the privilege to support.  I love this challenge.  I love to figure what these small writers need and build a road map with them to set them off on their long writing journey.

The best way to illustrate my conference time with this young writer is to write down our conversation.  As the conference begins, I think of all the experts who helped me become a writing teacher: Calkins, Graves, Murray, Fletcher, Andersen.  Their advice whirls around my head.  I take a deep breath, relax, and remember most of all to be present to this little writer in front of me.

Me: So M., do you know what you want to write about?

M. : Yes! PUMPKINS!

Me: Fabulous! Have you made a plan?

M.: (shaking her head) What’s that?

Me: You know.  A web – those sheet with the circle in the center and the lines.

M.: Like a spider.

Me: Yes – spider paper.

M.: No. I don’t know how to.

Me: Here, I’ll show you.  Let’s make a simple plan – beginning, middle, end.

M. sits down with me at the table in the back of her classroom. I turn over her story template and list on the back – B – M – E.

Me: What happens in the beginning?

M.: I am at the pumpkin patch and I find a GIANT pumpkin.

I write her words down.  She watches me intently.  I go slowly modeling how to think and write and sound words out.

Me: So, then what happens next?

M.: The pumpkin is too BIG.  It’s too heavy.  I can’t pick it up! It is ENORMOUS! (M. holds her arms out in front of her making a large circle).

Me: You can’t pick it up? What do you do next?

M.: I look around and I find a smaller pumpkin. I pick that one up and bring it home to make pumpkin pie.

Me: Fantastic! Now, tell me your story again out loud.

M. tells me her pumpkin story from beginning to end.  She is giggling and dancing with excitement.  She is ready to write.  I turn over the planning paper and M. picks up her pencil to begin.  This is where the heavy lifting begins.

M.: “One day I went to the pumpkin patch. “ How do you spell pumpkin?

Me: Let’s stretch it out.

M.: p-u-m-k-i-n.

Me: p-u-m-p-k-i-n.

M. writes “pumpkin.” Then asks how to spell “patch.”

Me: Let’s stretch it out.

M.: p-a-ch

Me: p-a-t-ch

M. write out “patch.” She continues with her story – writing, pausing, stretching the words she’s unsure of, and happy in the process. At times, she starts telling me other stories as she writes, and I have to redirect her.  Six sentences are hard work for this writer, but she perseveres joyfully. All of a sudden, M. stops and turns her smiling face to me six inches from my nose.

M.: You are fun! I need to have a playdate with you!

Me: (laughing) M. keep writing.

M.: I love you! You are my favorite teacher!  You are the best! (She says with wild exuberance thrusting her hands toward my face and sticking one finger up my nose).

I lurch backwards and laugh.  This is why I teach. Children have such heart and spirit.  They are fearless to show how they feel.  This moment in time will sustain me all week.  I am grateful to M.

M.: How do you spell pumpkin?

Me: Well M., you have written it four times already in your story. Let’s look back and see how it’s spelled.

M.: Okay! (she says cheerfully).

M. continues and is finally finished.  She is so excited that she’s made a story.  She gleefully reads it aloud to me.  I clap and cheer on this young author.  What have M. and I learned this morning in writers workshop?  I think M. learned: it’s good to have a plan; a story has a beginning, middle, and end; you can stretch out words to help you spell; and it’s fun to share your stories with a friend. What I learned and was reminded to do was to trust the young writer, slow down, listen, support, repeat, repeat, repeat, and be joyful in the process.

Books from Writing Experts

  1. …And with a Light Touch: Learning About Reading, Writing, and Teaching with First Graders by Carol Avery and Donald Graves
  2. Assessing Writers by Carl Anderson
  3. A Writer Teaches Writing by Donald M. Murray
  4. How’s it Going?: A Practical Guide for Conferring with Student Writers by Carl Anderson
  5. Joy Write: Cultivating High-Impact, Low-Stakes Writing by Ralph Fletcher
  6. Teaching Writing by Lucy Calkins
  7. The Art of Teaching Writing by Lucy Calkins
  8. Writing: Teachers and Children at Work by Donald Graves
  9. What a Writer Needs by Ralph Fletcher
  10. Writing Workshop: The Essential Guide by Ralph Fletcher

Small Wonder

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September is more than half-way over.  I am beginning to settle in to my school routine: getting up early, working long days organizing student support, and coming home exhausted only to organize some more.  It sounds tedious and parts of my job are very routinized, but then there is the wonder that sneaks in every day.  The wonder from young children engaging with their world.  That I would not trade to witness for all the money the in world – honestly.  Wonder is what sustains me, what pushes me through, what is on the other side of the routines and everyday drudgery. 

I realized that I have been either going to school or teaching in a school for sixty-two years, more than half a century, most of my life!  That is indeed a long time, and I know when the time comes for me to stop doing school, it will be a hard transition.  I absolutely love school.  I love getting up in the morning, picking out a school outfit, getting to school and seeing friends,  going through my way and learning, going home to think about all that has happened in the day, and then doing it all over again until summertime greets me at the end of the school year.

Every day there is a new surprise. Every day, something I didn’t expect happens.  This is sometimes positive and sometimes negative, and whichever it is – it is always a learning experience.  My days are electric, and that’s how I like them.  This is not to say my day are frenetic and haphazard.  No, the electricity comes from learning alongside children.  I get to see the world again through that childlike lens of wonder and discovery.  It fills me with joy, and I am reminded how exciting learning something can be.

One of the best ways I know to spend my time is visiting the JPK classroom, which is home to our three-year-old students.  I started my career teaching three-year-old children, so when I enter their classroom, it is like going back in time, and I feel young again. Three-year-olds are the friendliest people I know.  They engage you from the minute they meet you and want to be your friend.  They like to share information and will tell you without any hesitation what they are doing and how it is going in their world. Even if sometimes they are shy, they are still willing to come up and quietly share what they are thinking.  They thrive on connection.

I came to help out on the first day of school.  As parents were separating from their children, I noticed one little dark-haired girl, Avery, was having trouble letting her mom go.  I sat next to her at the playdough table and engaged her in a conversation long enough for her mom to say good-bye and leave.  We continued to play with our pink playdough balls, and I asked Avery if she’d like me to make a snowman. Her face lit up with an exuberant nod.  She requested that I make snowman after snowman in various sizes. She giggled and clapped all the way through.  I encouraged her to make a snowman, but she just shook her head and said, “You do it.” We played and chatted at the table until it was time for the children to clean-up and for me to get on with the rest of my day.

The following week, I came into the JPK room to find Avery once again sitting with pink playdough.  I sat alongside her and said hello.  She gave me a big smile and commanded me to make a snowman.  I started to make one ball and stopped and said, “You know you can do this.” She shook her head.  “Yes, you can,” and I said, “I can show you.”  Avery looked up at me, and I showed her how to move her hands to make a ball. She took some playdough and tried to form a ball.  She moved her hands back and forth.  When she opened her palms, she looked down and frowned.  “It’s a snake,” she said.  I smiled and explained, “When you move your hand back and forth it turns into a snake.  When you move your hands around in a circle like this it becomes a ball.”  I made a snake and then a ball. Then I helped Avery to move her hands in a circle. I told her to put the playdough on the table and move one hand on top in a circle.  She followed my instructions and slowly removed her hand uncovering a perfect little pink ball. Her face lit up like she had just witnessed magic.  Her face was a glow of delight that spread to me and to all the other children at the table.  I wished I had taken a photo of her.  Her expression was pure joy and happiness.  I tucked that image away with me and will keep it with me to use at times when I need a boost.

A few days later, I returned to Avery’s classroom.  When I walked in the door, she looked over her shoulder and beckoned me to come see what she was doing. When I saw, my heart over-filled with complete joy.  Avery’s playdough mat had a long line of pink balls lined up one after another and stacked one on top of another like a great pink snowball wall.  I laughed and said, “Oh, you have been busy!  You know how to make snowballs now!  You don’t need me.”  Avery smiled at me, patted the chair next to her. “Sit down,” she said, “Come play.”  Who could argue with that?

I know this seems like such a small thing: a child playing with playdough, learning to make shapes.  Some people might say, “This is the way you spend your day?  You get paid for this?” And I will proudly declare, “Yes – I spend my day in joy and wonder.  I spend my day cultivating play and creativity because it is through these little joy-filled interactions that people learn and grow and invent new ways for our world to be a better place. And so to all of you I say, “Sit down. Come play.”

Avery playing practicing her new skill: PlayDough balls!

A Wall of Wonder

Reading in Wildness

~ wordancerblog ~ 5 Comments

I took this photo while on vacation in Maine.  I was walking by a favorite lily pond and happened upon this mother-daughter reading team lounging in a nearby meadow. The mother was reading with much gusto, taking on the voices of each character.  I don’t know what book it was that she was reading, but her young daughter was totally entranced by the story.  “Surely,” I thought to myself, “this child will grow up to be a fearless, wild reader.”  They brought a smile to my face and joy to my old teacher heart.

As a child, reading was difficult for me. I painstakingly sounded out each letter and then tried my hardest to blend the sounds into a word. Sometimes it worked, but sometimes it didn’t, and the whole process left me exhausted. However, I loved stories.  I listened to epic poems that my father would recite and fantasy classics that my mother would read to me.  I found stories to be mesmerizing.  It took me a long time to say that I loved reading. Reading was slow work, and I was a fast kid. I did not like to sit still.  I wanted the words to come fast and furious, but my mind kept me at a slow and steady pace.  I was labeled a “slow reader.”  I wasn’t dyslexic, just slow.  One of the reasons for this, I think as I look back, is that I was in love with words, so I would dawdle over passages and wonder how the author constructed such a scene.  If the author left some things to the readers’ imagination, then I would float off creating whole other scenarios in my head.  Slowly, I would land back to the book and continue where I had left off.  This certainly was not efficient, purposeful reading, but it did afford me the ability to read like a writer.  I was not a spectator as I read, I was a participant.  I took in all the words to use them again in a different way in a story of my own. Eventually, I learned to savor the slow and to know that the kind of reading I was doing was helping me become a better writer.

Recently, I found Hudson Talbott’s A Walk in Words.  Talbott was also a slow reader and in this book he explains his reading journey.  It is through drawing that Talbott came to love reading and writing.  He found that his love of drawing lead him into stories, and he began to think of reading as “word painting.” As he grew, Talbott’s curiosity won, and he was able to read at his own pace. At the end of the book, he created a Slow Reader Hall of Fame including: William Shakespeare, Joan of Arc, Babe Ruth, Sojourner Truth, Alexander Graham Bell, to name a few. Thankfully, Talbott became a picture book writer. He said that he mined books for words to use in his stories and that the ability to lose himself in books helped to spark his imagination.

When I think of it, many of the book I adored as a child were based in the wild. The book that taught me that I loved reading was the classic, Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry and after that was Jean Craighead George’s masterpiece, My Side of the Mountain.  Those books helped me see past myself and to envision the kind of reader who takes chances and doesn’t give up. I slowly picked my way through the words and in the process found lifelong friends and exciting adventures.

Reading in Wildness Suggestions:

Reading in the Wild: The Book Whisperer’s Keys to Cultivating Lifelong Reading Habits by Donalyn Miller

Picture Books:

A Walk in Forest by Maria Dek

Over and Under the Pond by Kate Messner

Slow Down: 50 Mindful Moments in Nature by Rachel Williams

The Hike by Alison Farrell

Tiny, Perfect Things by M.H. Clark

Wild by Emily Hughes

Chapter Books:

A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park

Beyond the Bright Sea by Lauren Wolk

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

Inside Out & Back Again by Thanhha lai

Pax by Sara Pennypacker

The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill

The Wanderer by Sharon Creech

Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls

Power in our Words

~ wordancerblog ~ 4 Comments

Summer has come, and this is the time I normally take to reflect on my past year’s teaching experience.  I have filled two roles for the past two and a half years: first, as an ELA Curriculum Coordinator and then as a Learning Support Coordinator. I didn’t realize how much doing both roles would require of me. I love the creativity of curricular development and also enjoy working one-on-one with struggling students.  I like the challenge of finding the right strategies to support each learner.  Next school year, I will be solely engaged in learning support, and I have found myself feeling ebullient at the prospect. Though I will miss providing reading and writing curricular support, the whole reason I went into teaching forty-three years ago was to help kids who found school difficult.  I love working with kids to find pathways to learning, to make reading and writing playful, to make school meaningful and fun again.

As I shift my attention solely to learning support, I keep thinking about how teacher language supports student engagement and growth.  There have been many studies about this idea. Also, I know this to be true from my own experiences as a student.  There were teachers who shut me down and who believed more in my limitations than in my possibilities.  They could be dismissive, sarcastic, and sometimes downright mean.  I vowed never to be like those teachers.  When I was unfortunate enough to have that type of teacher, I learned to keep my head down, be quiet, and not to bring any attention to myself.  In those years, I did not learn as much as I could have, and my self-esteem suffered.  I am grateful that I only had two such years in my long career as a student.  Most years, I had teachers who saw my potential, who encouraged me, and who showed they cared about my ideas.  In the presence of those teachers, I flourished.  I felt good about myself.  I took more and more risks, my voice became stronger, and I had the motivation to learn.  Their support fed my curiosity and creativity.  I began to read widely and teach myself.  I was empowered by my teachers’ positive attitude towards me.

The past two and a half years has been difficult for teachers.  They have spent less time teaching and more time on administrative minutia.  The stress of masks, social distancing, hybrid learning, and virtual technology has taken its toll.  Workshops on mindfulness and self-care can only do so much.  Since my job is to support learning, I spend most of my days inside classrooms observing teaching and learning.  I have witnessed some wonderful, creative, and engaging lessons.  However, I have also witnessed some disengagement, frustration, and negative, unproductive talk from teachers.  As I reflect on how I can become a positive voice in my school community,  I have been reading Paula Denton’s book, The Power of Our Words.  The book is part of the Responsive Classroom series and gives concrete advice to teachers on how to reflect on how they speak to their students and how to shift negative talk into talk that is uplifting and supportive – talk that will make students feel valued and talk that will encourage them to become involved in their own learning.  I plan to think of ways to speak to my faculty about the importance of teacher talk and to make teacher talk integral to the learning profiles I create for each struggling student.

I hope in this way, not only our students with learning differences, but also all students will benefit.  Paul Denton’s words ring true: “…teachers can use language to help students imagine themselves behaving and achieving in ways that go beyond but connect to their current reality.  Helping students form and own a vision of themselves achieving success is a fundamental job of teachers, and language is a key tool for doing this.”

Now, more than ever it is important for teachers to become mindful of their talk and to think about the words we use to provide optimal engagement and lead children to see learning as a way to attain their goals.  Teachers have that power, and it is important for them to think deeply before they speak.

Books that Promote Positive Talk:

How to Talk So Kids Can Learn: At Home and In School by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish

How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish

How to Talk so Little Kids Will Listen: A Survival Guide to Life with Children Ages 2-7 by Joanna Faber and Julie King

How to Talk so Teens Will Listen & Listen So Teens Will Talk by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish

Positive Teacher Talk for Better Classroom Management by Deborah Diffly

Say What You See for Parents and Teachers by Sandra R. BlackardThe Power of Our Words: Teacher Language that Helps Children Learn by Paula Denton

Embracing the Process

~ wordancerblog ~ 6 Comments

During the last two weeks, I have had the good fortune to get back into the Wonder Studio with students.  The Wonder Studio is a little swathe of space formerly the lobby of an old Victorian building that houses some of my school’s classrooms and offices.  I created the space to give children a place to craft and have agency over their own imaginations.  I gather junk, art and craft materials, and recyclables, and then stand back to see what the girls do with them.  Wonder Studio is not a class, though the girls have begged it to be.  Studio time is granted two days a week during recess on the days that I don’t have meetings at lunchtime.

This spring, I invited the 5th graders to come back into the Wonder Studio.  They love to make messes. Today, they sang the “Clean-up Song” to me that they learned in Pre-K. They sang so sweetly and earnestly,  however they didn’t quite clean everything up.  Some of them tried to skip out without cleaning brushes or throwing away paper scraps.  I get it.  I was twelve once.  I was, I assure you – and I too loved to make messes, create, build, and imagine. And I still do.

Last week, while Laila was working on yet another new project, I observed aloud that she often created things and then abandoned them.  She looked up at me grinning.

“I know,” she said, “I love the process.” 

I laughed and agreed.  Then I asked her if I could dismantle her massive seashell sculpture so others could use the shells. She gave me her permission.  As I worked ungluing the shells, Laila started looking around the room at my materials.  She often finds things I didn’t know I had.  Soon, Laila held up a small pink plastic bowl, which was serving as a container for someone else’s small project.  I looked at her skeptically. 

“They won’t mind.  It’s not part of the project.” Laila promised. “Here,” she said as she held up a small box, “They can use this.”  And off Laila went with bowl in hand to create her next project. 

The other girls in the group spend time making bracelets, sewing patchwork pillows, decorating small boxes, or making little rooms decorated with paint, glue, and cotton balls.  Everyone is quiet and very intentional in their constructing.  I do not offer advice unless asked, and I help with construction only when the student needs assistance.  I keep my distance and my humor. Wonder Studio time is actually my time to relax and let joy come to me.  It always does, and it’s worth the mess and the cajoling to clean up.

Laila got out her favorite tool, the hot glue gun and began to adhere things to the small plastic bowl.  She found that the plastic forks did not stay on properly and then peeled them off. Next, Laila took some fat pink yarn and began to wind it onto the bottom of the bowl. She wanted to use counting bears from the math lab closet, but I told her that we couldn’t use math materials.  She frowned and began hunting for a replacement.  She found small wooden objects: an alligator, a bear, a snail, a leaf, and a heart.  As I watched this process, I was fascinated by how quick she worked and how undaunted she was when she encountered failure.  In fact, Laila didn’t think of it as failure, she was enjoying the challenge. Laila would just try something new if the first thing she thought of didn’t work.  At one point, I asked her what she was making.

With a smile, she turned and said, “A centerpiece for your desk!”

I laughed and said, “Laila – when I’m old and in the retirement home I hope you will stop by and show me photos of all the sculptures you have on exhibit all over the world.”

“I will,” Laila said cheerfully and got back to work. When it was time to clean up, she was reluctant.  I put the bowl in my office and told her that it would be waiting for her when she returned to the Wonder Studio.

Today, Laila finished her project.  She put a wooden pedestal in the center of the bowl and turned it over.  Then she glued the pedestal to a jar lid and turned it upside down.  She came over and handed it to me.

“The centerpiece for my desk?” I asked, taking it carefully into my hands.

“A lamp for your desk,” Lalia replied.

I laughed, “Of course, a lamp.  It looks just like a lamp. I am going to put it by pink teapot. Thank you.”

And with that, Laila turned back into the Wonder Studio and started another project, this time with beads.  She took hot glue and put it at the end of some string.  “This way, I don’t have to make a knot,” she said.

Human imagination continues to surprise me. After forty-two years of teaching. I’m still not sure how to teach this kind of ingenuity. The only thing I do know is to make space and step out of the way.  I know that I have to be quiet and listen.  My students always show me the way.  They know what they need.  They know when they are stuck. They know how to change their circumstances and make something new. The process is the learning, and they are totally engaged and in the flow of creating. The key is to embrace the process.