Sorry, got caught up in the holidays. So here's a story/thought that's been stewing in my brain for a while. A boy I work closely with, most closely in reading, absolutely floored me on Monday morning of the week before winter break. He came to school in kind of a foul humor, so I tried to jolly him up by starting with a game that we play in the hall: we toss a ball back and forth and call a word or phrase to each other that has to do with the book he's reading. It can be anything; doesn't have to be vocabulary. This helps me see whether and what he remembers of what he's read.
He's been reading the "Ready Freddy" series, and on that day students were supposed to decide how they would present their independent reading project to the class. I didn't really know how to approach this task with this kid, but it needed to be very concrete. Imagine my surprise, then, when on the first toss he says, "Freddy is always nervous at the beginning of the book." Next toss: "Then he gets help from his friends, and he's excited about his plan." And finally, "He is always happy at the end of the book." Wow. Considering that getting this kid to answer questions about what he's read is about as easy as pulling teeth, this sounded to me like he had all of a sudden started spouting Shakespeare.
I found out later that this was basically a summary of a reading conference he'd had with Ms. Lee and another student (also reading "Ready Freddy") on Friday, which made it less out-of-the-blue, but still impressive that he internalized and could produce all of that at an appropriate moment. So, great. I had him write it all down as part of his final project (a booklet; he loves making his own books) before it disappeared from his mind. I also praised him to the skies, of course. I think he felt good about his work, as well he should have. A good first period on a Monday. I told his mom about it at dismissal. Yaay.
The next day, Ms. Lee was going to give an assessment that corresponded to the Common Core standards for reading. I attended the meeting in which this assessment was agreed on; students were asked to write about a character that they had read about in the current school year and imagine being friends with them; kind of a fun assignment.
This boy turned in a blank sheet of paper for this assessment. Let's just leave aside the reasons for that; suffice it to say that this is not an uncommon occurrence for this boy when it comes to assessments. There was another boy in the class who also turned in a blank paper; this boy's particular challenge is writing, so again, not so surprising as an outcome. But my question is this: isn't this as much a writing assessment as it is a reading assessment? How can you assess one without the other, "formally," as it were? Is there a way to do it?
Assessing these two particular students this way indicates a problem, but it doesn't assess their reading ability. This assessment doesn't tell you that one of these boys reads independently for 30 minutes a day, and the other cannot do that at all. It doesn't tell you that they both read (decode) at or above grade level. It doesn't tell you that one of them just made, with some guidance, a major breakthrough in expressing himself concerning his reading comprehension.
Perhaps this assessment served its intended purpose for all but these two students, although this is far from clear. My question is this: how useful is this reading assessment if it is as much about how well a student writes as about how the student reads, or how sophisticated their thinking is about what they are reading? If we rely on writing to inform us about their reading, and thinking, then what happens when writing is a problem? Do we assume they're not reading? That doesn't seem fair.
Happy New Year everyone. More in 2013!
Friday, December 28, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Water and conversation
I have been thinking a great deal lately about language
and its work as the main medium of teaching. The Japanese have a saying: “Water
and conversation are free.” This was an obstacle in my previous career in
consulting, as there is a predisposition in Japanese business culture not to
pay for “conversation,” which is often what our services boiled down to. My job
was to make the conversation interesting and valuable enough to pay for.
In teaching, it’s even harder than that. Language seems so
ephemeral- do students hear the words we say to them? Do they understand? Out
of 25 kids, how many are hearing me at any given moment? Did that fire truck
mean I should start over? We don’t have the luxury of meandering conversations:
if nothing else, we’re limited by the attention span of the least attentive
child. We have to write koans and haiku. Every word has to be packed with
meaning, we have to know how to say the most in the least amount of words and
time, and the lesson has to be more than the sum of its parts: its substance
has to stay in their minds somehow. Right now, I waste words, and time, casting
around for just the right lever to pull, to tip their minds in the direction I
want them to go. I feel like I don’t know where we’re all going—mainly because
I’ve never been there before. I am not reliably leading them, yet, where I want
them to go. If they do wind up there, it feels like a happy accident, and I
need to also find a way to know if it happened at all. It’s all still water and
conversation.
。。。水とお喋り
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Parenting in Public, or My Toughest Parenting Experience to Date
7:45 am on a Manhattan-bound Q train. It's crowded, and M and I are standing. Four or five young men board the train, about 15 or 16 years old. They are talking amongst themselves about something no doubt completely innocuous, but loudly, and it is f__ this and sh__ that and, especially, a more or less constant stream of the n-word.
I stand there trying to tune it out and hoping M is, too. But they get louder and louder, and finally, I turn to the one talking into my ear and say, in what I hope is a reasoned tone, "Listen. She's four. Does she really have to listen to this?"
They were genuinely apologetic: "Sorry miss," and I was prepared to let it go. After all, they really were just chatting to each other, in the way that teenagers do. It is their vernacular. I accept this- just not right in the ear of my four-year-old.
Then M looks up at me and herself utters the n-word, with a question mark at the end.
I said to her, probably much too firmly, "You must never say that word, do you understand? It's a very bad word. Never say it." She looked down and, perceiving that she had done something wrong but having no idea what, began to cry. Hard.
I picked her up in my arms to comfort her. I said to the young men, "I hope you're pleased with yourselves." All of this took less than 30 seconds.
My immediate thoughts were as follows: I should have been more compassionate with M. I should have been more articulate with those boys. Maybe, I should never have opened my mouth. But even had I not, clearly that word entered her brain.
Certainly I don't blame those boys for her distress, but I'm sure they misinterpreted what I said. I blame them for something more important than that. And maybe I shouldn't blame them- I don't know if it's appropriate to expect them to reflect on how what they are saying sounds to someone who does not speak their vernacular. Somehow I can't picture them talking to their mothers that way, but at the end of the day, I am still blinded by my cultural lens. I can't imagine what their words do or don't mean to them.
But I can only think that if ever there was empirical proof that language has an impact, this is exhibit A. To put it in the starkest possible terms, I don't think those boys want to be the ones who taught a little white girl the n-word, regardless of what else I might teach her about the n-word. If I asked them, I bet that's what they'd say to me: I don't want to be that guy- I can imagine that.
The train was full of all kinds of people, of every hue. I have no idea what anyone thought of the exchange, if they thought anything at all. But what a relief that children are children: I was able to cheer M up on the rest of our trip to school, and by the time we got there, she was running down the hill, pretending to be a dog, and anxious to be inside and join her friends, per usual. I went to her classroom in hopes of catching her teachers so that, if she should decide to try the word out again at school, they would know the background.
Her teachers were not surprised, but I was, when I burst into tears while telling the story. And, truly, of the many moments that I wish I could have called my mom in the last six years, never more so than today. Why? I couldn't tell you, not exactly. It was just a harrowing experience.
I know that this will come up again. I only hope that next time, I can be more prepared and less reactive. I hope I can make M understand without making her cry. And most of all... I could really live without the audience. This subject is hard enough as it is.
I stand there trying to tune it out and hoping M is, too. But they get louder and louder, and finally, I turn to the one talking into my ear and say, in what I hope is a reasoned tone, "Listen. She's four. Does she really have to listen to this?"
They were genuinely apologetic: "Sorry miss," and I was prepared to let it go. After all, they really were just chatting to each other, in the way that teenagers do. It is their vernacular. I accept this- just not right in the ear of my four-year-old.
Then M looks up at me and herself utters the n-word, with a question mark at the end.
I said to her, probably much too firmly, "You must never say that word, do you understand? It's a very bad word. Never say it." She looked down and, perceiving that she had done something wrong but having no idea what, began to cry. Hard.
I picked her up in my arms to comfort her. I said to the young men, "I hope you're pleased with yourselves." All of this took less than 30 seconds.
My immediate thoughts were as follows: I should have been more compassionate with M. I should have been more articulate with those boys. Maybe, I should never have opened my mouth. But even had I not, clearly that word entered her brain.
Certainly I don't blame those boys for her distress, but I'm sure they misinterpreted what I said. I blame them for something more important than that. And maybe I shouldn't blame them- I don't know if it's appropriate to expect them to reflect on how what they are saying sounds to someone who does not speak their vernacular. Somehow I can't picture them talking to their mothers that way, but at the end of the day, I am still blinded by my cultural lens. I can't imagine what their words do or don't mean to them.
But I can only think that if ever there was empirical proof that language has an impact, this is exhibit A. To put it in the starkest possible terms, I don't think those boys want to be the ones who taught a little white girl the n-word, regardless of what else I might teach her about the n-word. If I asked them, I bet that's what they'd say to me: I don't want to be that guy- I can imagine that.
The train was full of all kinds of people, of every hue. I have no idea what anyone thought of the exchange, if they thought anything at all. But what a relief that children are children: I was able to cheer M up on the rest of our trip to school, and by the time we got there, she was running down the hill, pretending to be a dog, and anxious to be inside and join her friends, per usual. I went to her classroom in hopes of catching her teachers so that, if she should decide to try the word out again at school, they would know the background.
Her teachers were not surprised, but I was, when I burst into tears while telling the story. And, truly, of the many moments that I wish I could have called my mom in the last six years, never more so than today. Why? I couldn't tell you, not exactly. It was just a harrowing experience.
I know that this will come up again. I only hope that next time, I can be more prepared and less reactive. I hope I can make M understand without making her cry. And most of all... I could really live without the audience. This subject is hard enough as it is.
Monday, December 3, 2012
QUIET!
This will be brief. Sometimes it's hard to remember that kids that are noisy are learning and engaged. Depending on the activity, it's not possible to be silent.
Yes, I had another sub at PSOhYes today, for several periods while Ms. Lee was doing some professional development. The sub was nice enough. But.
I had the kids doing a math game that Ms. Lee had left me to review their math facts. It involved groups of four and a ball, and with that structure, they were going to get boisterous, it's a given.
Once the sub had had enough of the noise, she sat on the teacher's chair and yelled, "It's too loud in here! You can play but you have to be quiet."
All the kids looked at me. Of course, I couldn't say anything, but I was thinking, really? You think they can play if they have to be quiet? I don't!
Yes, I had another sub at PSOhYes today, for several periods while Ms. Lee was doing some professional development. The sub was nice enough. But.
I had the kids doing a math game that Ms. Lee had left me to review their math facts. It involved groups of four and a ball, and with that structure, they were going to get boisterous, it's a given.
Once the sub had had enough of the noise, she sat on the teacher's chair and yelled, "It's too loud in here! You can play but you have to be quiet."
All the kids looked at me. Of course, I couldn't say anything, but I was thinking, really? You think they can play if they have to be quiet? I don't!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Moneymoneymoneymoney
My students worked with money today. It was kinda neat-- we put a lot of coins on a tray and gave one to each table (I won't even tell you how much change Ms. Lee has in her closet). They were to sort the coins, look through them, become familiar with the different types, their characteristics, names, how much they're worth. Then they partnered for a game where they had to close their eyes and match the coin their partner gave them by feel. It was a good sensory experience, I think.
Interestingly, I had designed a place-value game called heads or tails that I did with the class a bit earlier this semester. It used 20 pennies, but for more advanced students I gave them 20 nickels or 20 dimes and let them count the value of the coins. They didn't seem to have a problem doing this, so I just assumed they had already learned about money.
For that lesson, and for this one, they were quite excited to be playing with real money and were VERY engaged. I partnered with one girl whose father is from Africa and mother is European, and they spend summers overseas. She and I played on the rug, near where the values and names of the coins were displayed. She clearly was not familiar with what they were called or how much they were each worth. We have several kids in the class who are expats, and I wonder whether they, too, only have a vague notion of US coins?
It would not surprise me. I grew up in Japan and I remember learning about US currency in a math workbook at school. It mystified me for a long time why a nickel was bigger than a dime. Made no sense.
Anyway. They loved it. I guess enthusiasm for math is good at any price (even the price of possibly fostering an obsession with money!) so I have noted this: math games with coins are sure to be a hit.
Interestingly, I had designed a place-value game called heads or tails that I did with the class a bit earlier this semester. It used 20 pennies, but for more advanced students I gave them 20 nickels or 20 dimes and let them count the value of the coins. They didn't seem to have a problem doing this, so I just assumed they had already learned about money.
For that lesson, and for this one, they were quite excited to be playing with real money and were VERY engaged. I partnered with one girl whose father is from Africa and mother is European, and they spend summers overseas. She and I played on the rug, near where the values and names of the coins were displayed. She clearly was not familiar with what they were called or how much they were each worth. We have several kids in the class who are expats, and I wonder whether they, too, only have a vague notion of US coins?
It would not surprise me. I grew up in Japan and I remember learning about US currency in a math workbook at school. It mystified me for a long time why a nickel was bigger than a dime. Made no sense.
Anyway. They loved it. I guess enthusiasm for math is good at any price (even the price of possibly fostering an obsession with money!) so I have noted this: math games with coins are sure to be a hit.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Noticing
Disclaimer: this post has nothing to do with teaching. I had a very interesting moment this morning. Went into the deli across the street which is run by Arabic-speaking people. They had a radio tuned to an Arabic-language station, as they often do, and there was a news broadcast. I couldn't understand it, of course, but for three words: Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and jihad.
In front of me were two women making purchases. One was telling the other about how she'd just had another baby, how it was 5 months old but only 7 lbs 5 oz (to give you some perspective, my child was 15 lbs at 5 months) and the father is in jail.
All judgment aside, all political or social opinions aside, this is why it's so interesting to live here: you can't escape the world and its pressing issues, writ large, writ small. It's all around you; it's your neighbors and the people you do business with.
I don't intend at all to start a discussion about single motherhood, overcrowding in jails, or the Israel-Palestine conflict, which, sadly, has flared up again. Just, as we say in education, noticing.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
On the Same Team
Just had a great parent-teacher conference today. I didn't participate in many, but Ms. Lee was awesome about letting me give input and talking about the process of grading and so forth. She asked me to be present for the one today, because I had been working very closely with this student, who has a hard time working independently.
The student had been in another class for first grade, and we'd gotten the impression from his previous teacher and special education coordinator that they were perhaps resistant to evaluation for possible services: the family doctor could find nothing wrong and said that perhaps the teacher "didn't know how to deal with boys." We were apprehensive, to say the least.
Ms. Lee's method is to let the parents speak first. The mother said that they would begin the evaluation process in early December, and she had found a doctor that would take their insurance. I suspect that this may have been one thing that prevented them from doing it before. I didn't know that insurance would even cover such evaluations. File that away.
Long and short of it is, they were very afraid that their child would have to leave the school, depending on the outcome of the evaluation, and were relieved that this was not the case- there are inclusion classrooms at every grade level at PSOhNo.
They also seemed to feel that previous discussions had not been very collaborative. Both we and they shared the things we'd noticed, and we talked about the ways we were working with their child, what was working, and what the plan was going forward. The parents were quite obviously a. grateful that we were trying things and b. willing to take time and find ways to support this student's development in working independently.
They hugged us both at the end of the conference and thanked us for being so open, and I think both Ms. Lee and they felt it was a best possible outcome for the conference. I am really proud of how well it went! It was the only conference we were at all concerned about, and it was a slam dunk.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Democracy in action
Today was our first day back at school after the hurricane. The neighborhood around PSOhYes is completely normal, except shops extra-full of people who can't get to Manhattan, but of course we all know that not far away, things are terrible.
I was very impressed with the all-hands meeting the principal held today. It went for about an hour, and she led a quite democratic process of soliciting ideas and discussion about what we should do on a number of fronts, including what the staff would like to do about helping affected colleagues (everyone was in favor of immediate cash collection), what the greater school community, including families and the PTA can do for the broader relief effort, how teachers can talk to students about what has happened and perhaps teach into some aspects of it, and what kinds of aid activities the students can get involved in right away to help out.
Long story short, there was a read-a-thon planned that will now be devoted to the relief effort, and will be promoted as such as soon as it can be arranged. That, along with helping affected colleagues right away, were the "now" action items. Other initiatives to follow.
The principal really gave people a chance to be heard while still being very much in charge and keeping the meeting on track (it could have gone on all day). Many teachers were also aware of the fact that immediacy, while not the primary concern, is important: when it takes a long time to decide what to do, the message they get is "something terrible happens and we do something, sometime, maybe." I thought this was an important point to note.
My daughter took away from this that "the train is closed" and now we take the bus to school, but she's only four. I'm interested to know what my students think about what is going on in New York right now...
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Atama sagemasu
Which, in Japanese, means literally, "I lower my head." You say it when you watch someone do something amazing; it's meant to convey admiration. I said this to myself after watching Ms. Lee wrap up my math lesson today.
I had designed a place-value game for one of my classes last semester, and tried it out while she was out last week. It needed some work, but she wanted to see it, so we tried it again today. We went over how I would introduce it, and they remembered playing it, so it went smoothly. I played with our odd student (we have 25 kids), everyone else in pairs, and she walked around to see them play.
I was about to do a share at the end of the class, and she asked if she could take over. Of course! I said. And she went to work.
She did something that I know you're supposed to do, and somehow I never manage to get as concrete I should: she modeled the way you score the game on the sheet I designed. This may seem like a detail, but it's how the kids "show their work" and they were all over the map with their recording methods, this time and last time. She managed to explain how to score it, get them to explain to themselves why and how to do it this way, and had the class doing a little mental math at the end to boot. Her words were well-chosen, and the demonstration was just right.
She also had a few great suggestions (and in hindsight, perhaps obvious!) improvements to the scoring sheet, and ways you could customize it for what you want to teach (20's, 100's, counting by 5's or 25's and so forth).
I realize how far I have yet to go until I can be pitch-perfect like that. But in the meantime, I think the penny finally dropped on modeling. I hope I can hang on to the "aha" moment long enough to try it out properly!
I had designed a place-value game for one of my classes last semester, and tried it out while she was out last week. It needed some work, but she wanted to see it, so we tried it again today. We went over how I would introduce it, and they remembered playing it, so it went smoothly. I played with our odd student (we have 25 kids), everyone else in pairs, and she walked around to see them play.
I was about to do a share at the end of the class, and she asked if she could take over. Of course! I said. And she went to work.
She did something that I know you're supposed to do, and somehow I never manage to get as concrete I should: she modeled the way you score the game on the sheet I designed. This may seem like a detail, but it's how the kids "show their work" and they were all over the map with their recording methods, this time and last time. She managed to explain how to score it, get them to explain to themselves why and how to do it this way, and had the class doing a little mental math at the end to boot. Her words were well-chosen, and the demonstration was just right.
She also had a few great suggestions (and in hindsight, perhaps obvious!) improvements to the scoring sheet, and ways you could customize it for what you want to teach (20's, 100's, counting by 5's or 25's and so forth).
I realize how far I have yet to go until I can be pitch-perfect like that. But in the meantime, I think the penny finally dropped on modeling. I hope I can hang on to the "aha" moment long enough to try it out properly!
Monday, October 22, 2012
Knocking something down when you didn't mean to
Much as I feel reasonably competent in the classroom, there are some times that, as a student teacher, you're bound to do or say something which, in hindsight, doesn't work out very well. It's not thoughtlessness, it's just an accident- lack of context, no foreknowledge of potential consequences. (Sort of like my student who knocked over the Empire State Building- see below- she didn't mean to.)
To make a very long story short, Ms. Lee had to be out a bit last week. As a consequence, I did some minor supervision of the class on my own (with the principal's knowledge) and I worked with a few substitute teachers. I wound up taking some flack for several decisions I didn't make, from both parents and other teachers, which is fine- I am perfectly willing to take one for the team. But I did mention a few things to Ms. Lee in passing, not to lay blame but just to say, if anyone comes to you with this, here is some context.
In particular, one of the substitutes did something that I thought was a bit unprofessional. Ms. Lee seemed to agree, and said she'd mention it to the person in the front office who manages the substitutes. Case closed, right? No- I heard about it the next day from both the sub (who confronted me angrily in our classroom) AND the person who schedules the subs. At this point, I got a bit defensive. My intention was not to get anyone in trouble, and this is supposed to be about the kids. I felt attacked for exercising what I thought was my best judgment, and Ms. Lee didn't disagree.
Working with substitutes can be very fraught. They are "responsible for the class" in a legal sense, but the ones I've worked with have, to a greater or lesser degree, been willing to let me take the lead in what actually gets taught on a given day, so that they are in effect my "assistant for the day." This suits me fine and I would imagine takes some of the pressure off of them.
But as student-teachers, we are not supposed to be taking responsibility or making decisions. We are also insulated from the avenues of responsibility and accountability to a fair extent; everything we do is filtered through our cooperating teacher. Should the sub "get in trouble," really? I don't know; it's not my decision. This is what I told the sub: I couldn't personally get you in trouble even if I wanted to, which I didn't.
I think I will chalk this one up to no good deed going unpunished, and hope that it ends there.
To make a very long story short, Ms. Lee had to be out a bit last week. As a consequence, I did some minor supervision of the class on my own (with the principal's knowledge) and I worked with a few substitute teachers. I wound up taking some flack for several decisions I didn't make, from both parents and other teachers, which is fine- I am perfectly willing to take one for the team. But I did mention a few things to Ms. Lee in passing, not to lay blame but just to say, if anyone comes to you with this, here is some context.
In particular, one of the substitutes did something that I thought was a bit unprofessional. Ms. Lee seemed to agree, and said she'd mention it to the person in the front office who manages the substitutes. Case closed, right? No- I heard about it the next day from both the sub (who confronted me angrily in our classroom) AND the person who schedules the subs. At this point, I got a bit defensive. My intention was not to get anyone in trouble, and this is supposed to be about the kids. I felt attacked for exercising what I thought was my best judgment, and Ms. Lee didn't disagree.
Working with substitutes can be very fraught. They are "responsible for the class" in a legal sense, but the ones I've worked with have, to a greater or lesser degree, been willing to let me take the lead in what actually gets taught on a given day, so that they are in effect my "assistant for the day." This suits me fine and I would imagine takes some of the pressure off of them.
But as student-teachers, we are not supposed to be taking responsibility or making decisions. We are also insulated from the avenues of responsibility and accountability to a fair extent; everything we do is filtered through our cooperating teacher. Should the sub "get in trouble," really? I don't know; it's not my decision. This is what I told the sub: I couldn't personally get you in trouble even if I wanted to, which I didn't.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
If you can go to a garden, go
We went to my community garden today, as part of our science unit on plants. PSOhYes has a garden, but we went to see the composting, mostly. There was also still a lot to see, even in mid-October, as a lot of things like pumpkins had not been harvested.
Can I just tell you how excited these kids were? They ran up to me saying things like "I did SIX sketches and I want to do six more!!!!!!" And you know, even if they stopped after two, they were still running around looking at the pumpkins and the other plants, looking for snails, wondering why the mosquitoes were not as bad in the sunny, open parts of the garden- they could not have been more engaged.
I had one of my fellow gardeners, who works a lot with our compost, come to talk to the students for about 15 minutes about compost, what goes in and where we get it, what comes out and what we do with it, and what happens in between. He found them some worms to play with- very exciting!- and some intrepid kids put their hands on the steaming, partially-cooked compost. The steam coming off of that pile got a big "Ooooh!" as well.
It was, all in all, a really stellar field trip, and we really didn't have to do much except set them loose and make sure they understood the rules. Some kids even contributed to the compost pile with scraps from their lunch!
Here is an excellent example of some of the sketching they did today:
Can I just tell you how excited these kids were? They ran up to me saying things like "I did SIX sketches and I want to do six more!!!!!!" And you know, even if they stopped after two, they were still running around looking at the pumpkins and the other plants, looking for snails, wondering why the mosquitoes were not as bad in the sunny, open parts of the garden- they could not have been more engaged.
I had one of my fellow gardeners, who works a lot with our compost, come to talk to the students for about 15 minutes about compost, what goes in and where we get it, what comes out and what we do with it, and what happens in between. He found them some worms to play with- very exciting!- and some intrepid kids put their hands on the steaming, partially-cooked compost. The steam coming off of that pile got a big "Ooooh!" as well.
It was, all in all, a really stellar field trip, and we really didn't have to do much except set them loose and make sure they understood the rules. Some kids even contributed to the compost pile with scraps from their lunch!
Here is an excellent example of some of the sketching they did today:
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Falling down on the job
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I've been teaching one lesson a day for the last two weeks, and inevitably, one of them didn't go well.
As you know, we've been working on the compass rose. We've been team-teaching this unit because I am not there every day. Yesterday Ms. Lee wanted them to finish a bird's-eye view map of the classroom that they did, and we also had some compasses and maps to work with. We wanted them to finish their maps first, to reorient them to the four directions, so first they were to correctly mark the compass rose that we'd pasted onto each of their maps with N S E & W (it was a small map).
Then, we gave them compasses and had them try and line up their compasses with the compass roses on their maps. These are not very high quality compasses; they don't work well, and we had an interesting discussion about why it might be that they were not all pointing to north (magnets in the room? Metal in the building? Force field of the microwave and refrigerator in the northernmost corner messing up the manetic field? Fascinating).
Finally, we had five maps of the greater NYC area, one for each table, and we were going to have them work with the maps and find places north, south, east, northeast, southeast, etc., of Brooklyn. So, three transitions, and no clear "lesson, then work" flow, which made it tricky.
Now, mind you, they were also doing all of this at their table seats, and they are not used to being at their table seats for whole class discussions. For some reason, calling out and chatting with neighbors is a huge problem at their work seats, while it's not, so much, when they're on the rug- this I attribute to conditioned behavior. They are used to being quiet on the rug, and being free to talk while working, at least some of the time.
That said, they LOVED the maps. So much that some groups were not able to share well, and goodness knows they were not able to be quiet and listen to each other in a discussion-type format. It was great for the kids who got it, and knew what they were doing; less so, naturally, for the ones who were trying to figure out the directions still.
Ms. Lee totally had my back on this. She walked around and helped me make sure everyone was getting access, and that the kids who were struggling with the directions were getting a little guidance.
I had not really thought through the discussion part, I confess, and it took me by surprise that they were so exuberant. I tried, on the fly, to think of a way to change the dynamic so it wouldn't be so chaotic, but I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't shut off their enthusiasm. So I soldiered on, shushing them as questions were asked and answered, and, in the words of Ms. Lee, tried to appreciate that "there was engagement, there was learning," even if it was a little chaotic.
In retrospect, we could have used the ELMO for this and done the entire discussion on the rug rather than the groups having maps (although I rather like that they could actually hold it). One advantage of this venue is I could have traced with a pointer the vector of the directions, and some kids could have described their thinking, in a way that would be very visual as we worked on the questions together, and I think this might have helped my strugglers.
Alternatively, I could have designed a simple worksheet that they could work on in groups ("find two places northeast of Brooklyn," "find one thing on the map that is not a city that is south of Brooklyn," this kind of thing). I would have had to walk them through it and read the questions out, but it would not have been any less chaotic than what we had already going on. We could have come back and discussed what each group came up with.
So, you live and you learn. Thank goodness Ms. Lee is not the type to dwell. She told me not to be so hard on myself. We'll have another chance to look at the maps when we start the unit on New York City, and I can use what I've learned then.
As you know, we've been working on the compass rose. We've been team-teaching this unit because I am not there every day. Yesterday Ms. Lee wanted them to finish a bird's-eye view map of the classroom that they did, and we also had some compasses and maps to work with. We wanted them to finish their maps first, to reorient them to the four directions, so first they were to correctly mark the compass rose that we'd pasted onto each of their maps with N S E & W (it was a small map).
Then, we gave them compasses and had them try and line up their compasses with the compass roses on their maps. These are not very high quality compasses; they don't work well, and we had an interesting discussion about why it might be that they were not all pointing to north (magnets in the room? Metal in the building? Force field of the microwave and refrigerator in the northernmost corner messing up the manetic field? Fascinating).
Finally, we had five maps of the greater NYC area, one for each table, and we were going to have them work with the maps and find places north, south, east, northeast, southeast, etc., of Brooklyn. So, three transitions, and no clear "lesson, then work" flow, which made it tricky.
Now, mind you, they were also doing all of this at their table seats, and they are not used to being at their table seats for whole class discussions. For some reason, calling out and chatting with neighbors is a huge problem at their work seats, while it's not, so much, when they're on the rug- this I attribute to conditioned behavior. They are used to being quiet on the rug, and being free to talk while working, at least some of the time.
That said, they LOVED the maps. So much that some groups were not able to share well, and goodness knows they were not able to be quiet and listen to each other in a discussion-type format. It was great for the kids who got it, and knew what they were doing; less so, naturally, for the ones who were trying to figure out the directions still.
Ms. Lee totally had my back on this. She walked around and helped me make sure everyone was getting access, and that the kids who were struggling with the directions were getting a little guidance.
I had not really thought through the discussion part, I confess, and it took me by surprise that they were so exuberant. I tried, on the fly, to think of a way to change the dynamic so it wouldn't be so chaotic, but I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't shut off their enthusiasm. So I soldiered on, shushing them as questions were asked and answered, and, in the words of Ms. Lee, tried to appreciate that "there was engagement, there was learning," even if it was a little chaotic.
In retrospect, we could have used the ELMO for this and done the entire discussion on the rug rather than the groups having maps (although I rather like that they could actually hold it). One advantage of this venue is I could have traced with a pointer the vector of the directions, and some kids could have described their thinking, in a way that would be very visual as we worked on the questions together, and I think this might have helped my strugglers.
Alternatively, I could have designed a simple worksheet that they could work on in groups ("find two places northeast of Brooklyn," "find one thing on the map that is not a city that is south of Brooklyn," this kind of thing). I would have had to walk them through it and read the questions out, but it would not have been any less chaotic than what we had already going on. We could have come back and discussed what each group came up with.
So, you live and you learn. Thank goodness Ms. Lee is not the type to dwell. She told me not to be so hard on myself. We'll have another chance to look at the maps when we start the unit on New York City, and I can use what I've learned then.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Second-graders are not spatial
At least, many of them are not. We've been working on teaching the four directions and how to use and create a compass rose on a map. They are making their own big compass roses, including the four directions and the "in-between" directions (NW, SW, NE, SE).
Some of them had problems figuring out how those should be arranged. Even when I told them "northeast is between north and east" (which is not very conceptual), they still mixed it up. Some of them put a few points at southwest, and none at northeast. Sigh.
These same kids also struggled with the notion that north didn't move, even if they did.
We started with looking at real maps and talking about maps and what they can do. We gave them a worksheet that helped them practice where the four directions are, and provided clip boards so they could orient themselves towards north, which was marked in one corner of the classroom (and yes, it is actually north). They didn't use the clip boards- which we thought would have made it easier for them, but alas, no.
We also did a kinesthetic activity, using both arms to point N-S, W-E, and one arm to point to a direction as fast as they could, then change their orientation (for example, turn 180 degrees) and find it again. Some students really struggled with this.
Interestingly, one student (who *did* get it) was standing in front of the corner marked "north" and when I would say "point north" he would point at his nose. I had him turn his body all the way around while still pointing north, while the other students watched. He had fun with it, but I got a lot of blank stares, too. Argh!
We have real compasses, and next week we'll use them along with a bird's-eye view (another stumper, for some kids- what do you mean the desk is just a rectangle?) map they each did of the classroom, to put the compass rose on their maps and mark it themselves. The science teacher, from whom we borrowed the compasses, warned that "they don't work very well." I took the whole tray to see if they all pointed the same way. Hmmm... not really!
We'll see- it will be interesting. I don't think that the students' getting it or not will hinge solely on whether these compasses are perfectly accurate. They DO know about compasses and the magnetic field that makes them work, so if they notice they are not working perfectly, it will be a good chance to have a discussion about why that is.
They can also practice being good scientists by sharing compasses and trying to reproduce results, which is an important part of the scientific method.
And maybe later this year, some of my little sweeties will suddenly be struck with the ability to conceive of a bird's-eye view, and a constant, like north, outside of themselves and the direction they are facing.
Some of them had problems figuring out how those should be arranged. Even when I told them "northeast is between north and east" (which is not very conceptual), they still mixed it up. Some of them put a few points at southwest, and none at northeast. Sigh.
These same kids also struggled with the notion that north didn't move, even if they did.
We started with looking at real maps and talking about maps and what they can do. We gave them a worksheet that helped them practice where the four directions are, and provided clip boards so they could orient themselves towards north, which was marked in one corner of the classroom (and yes, it is actually north). They didn't use the clip boards- which we thought would have made it easier for them, but alas, no.
We also did a kinesthetic activity, using both arms to point N-S, W-E, and one arm to point to a direction as fast as they could, then change their orientation (for example, turn 180 degrees) and find it again. Some students really struggled with this.
Interestingly, one student (who *did* get it) was standing in front of the corner marked "north" and when I would say "point north" he would point at his nose. I had him turn his body all the way around while still pointing north, while the other students watched. He had fun with it, but I got a lot of blank stares, too. Argh!
We have real compasses, and next week we'll use them along with a bird's-eye view (another stumper, for some kids- what do you mean the desk is just a rectangle?) map they each did of the classroom, to put the compass rose on their maps and mark it themselves. The science teacher, from whom we borrowed the compasses, warned that "they don't work very well." I took the whole tray to see if they all pointed the same way. Hmmm... not really!
We'll see- it will be interesting. I don't think that the students' getting it or not will hinge solely on whether these compasses are perfectly accurate. They DO know about compasses and the magnetic field that makes them work, so if they notice they are not working perfectly, it will be a good chance to have a discussion about why that is.
They can also practice being good scientists by sharing compasses and trying to reproduce results, which is an important part of the scientific method.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
You're on!!
Forgive me if I fall asleep in the middle of writing this. I got to school this morning (after having yesterday off) and immediately received an email from Ms. Lee, saying she was *really* sick, and outlining what she wanted me to do today. Simultaneously, a substitute teacher, whom we'll call Gustav, walked into the room and introduced himself.
He had a file cabinet's worth of worksheets (probably necessary when you show up without any plans or much idea of what to do), and he was very nice about the fact that I knew the routines and could handle most things, but he was being paid to be there and wanted to work with the kids too. Ummm, ok. We agreed on some times that he could have them do worksheets that he had brought. Having the entire day thrust on me was one thing, because I know that with the kids' help, I can handle it. They were super-good today, and did tell me when I was going seriously astray, and didn't abuse the opportunity to boss me around. But a sub with very different ideas, who is technically responsible for the class? Yikes.
So.... how'd it go? It was ok. We didn't team-teach. I kind of felt bad about that, but it's not like we had any time to plan anything. We were collegial. Even though Gustav's English was hard to understand (and I don't think he understood everything that was said to him), the kids were very polite and attentive- more so with him than with me. No hard feelings!
But he was definitely European old school, and that was interesting to watch. He said things like "I'm only giving these instructions one more time, and if you don't hear it, too bad," and "the most important thing is to cut neatly," and "you have fifteen minutes to do this; work on your own and make sure no one looks at your paper." This is not the way we do at PSOhYes! The irony is that he lectured me that morning about how kids what to do things that "are fun" in second grade. Worksheets? Fun? Really? Maybe because it involved coloring.... ?
At one point he tried to get them to work on a math worksheet silently, and it was just a little too hard for about half the kids in the class. I explained that they were used to working together in math, and it would probably be easiest to let them do so for that activity. He assented. He tried to get one group to do what he wanted to show them at choice time, last period- nothing doing. He almost had a mutiny until they each came to me and implored me to break out the modeling clay, which is what they had "signed up for" for choice time. Can't really argue with getting to have choices at choice time!
Although the students really were very good, we were all a bit out of sorts by the end of the day from trying to get used to each others' ways of doing things. They were tired of trying to simultaneously do what I asked and make sure I got the routines right. This made me really appreciate how well Ms. Lee knew the schedule and what she wanted them to accomplish on any given day, and how seamless her transitions are by comparison. Something to aspire to!
The part that was the hardest was that we were supposed to have a Curriculum Conference at 6 pm. This will need to be rescheduled. Ms. Lee let me know at 2 pm that she was not going to be able to do it, and good thing we had a planning period because I had to run off a note and get it in the folders to send home, and make sure Gustav understood what to tell parents at dismissal (don't come tonight!).
The sub praised my classroom management skills. That was nice. He said he knows it is very important "in this country." He was nice but kinda clueless- more a credit to the kids than to him that he could have managed them on his own.
I learned a lot today- there is a whole new level of things for me to pay closer attention to in the classroom, and to focus on in my own teaching. Transition would be an important one. And how about how long they work on a given subject or lesson? No bells at PSOhYes! It's easy to tell when they're "done" with a mini-lesson because they get wiggly, but I had to keep one eye on the clock to get them to lunch and the library, and it was pretty hard to do that piece of multitasking too.
Also, it was relatively easy to do what Ms. Lee asked me to do and focus on the surface issues of sticking to the routine, the things that the kids perceive as "the way we do things," but while we got through the day, I am not sure that today was my best teaching day, because I was focusing on getting through and being on time, and not as much on delivering the lessons.
Boy am I tired!
Here are a few nice choice-time products for your viewing pleasure:
He had a file cabinet's worth of worksheets (probably necessary when you show up without any plans or much idea of what to do), and he was very nice about the fact that I knew the routines and could handle most things, but he was being paid to be there and wanted to work with the kids too. Ummm, ok. We agreed on some times that he could have them do worksheets that he had brought. Having the entire day thrust on me was one thing, because I know that with the kids' help, I can handle it. They were super-good today, and did tell me when I was going seriously astray, and didn't abuse the opportunity to boss me around. But a sub with very different ideas, who is technically responsible for the class? Yikes.
So.... how'd it go? It was ok. We didn't team-teach. I kind of felt bad about that, but it's not like we had any time to plan anything. We were collegial. Even though Gustav's English was hard to understand (and I don't think he understood everything that was said to him), the kids were very polite and attentive- more so with him than with me. No hard feelings!
But he was definitely European old school, and that was interesting to watch. He said things like "I'm only giving these instructions one more time, and if you don't hear it, too bad," and "the most important thing is to cut neatly," and "you have fifteen minutes to do this; work on your own and make sure no one looks at your paper." This is not the way we do at PSOhYes! The irony is that he lectured me that morning about how kids what to do things that "are fun" in second grade. Worksheets? Fun? Really? Maybe because it involved coloring.... ?
At one point he tried to get them to work on a math worksheet silently, and it was just a little too hard for about half the kids in the class. I explained that they were used to working together in math, and it would probably be easiest to let them do so for that activity. He assented. He tried to get one group to do what he wanted to show them at choice time, last period- nothing doing. He almost had a mutiny until they each came to me and implored me to break out the modeling clay, which is what they had "signed up for" for choice time. Can't really argue with getting to have choices at choice time!
Although the students really were very good, we were all a bit out of sorts by the end of the day from trying to get used to each others' ways of doing things. They were tired of trying to simultaneously do what I asked and make sure I got the routines right. This made me really appreciate how well Ms. Lee knew the schedule and what she wanted them to accomplish on any given day, and how seamless her transitions are by comparison. Something to aspire to!
The part that was the hardest was that we were supposed to have a Curriculum Conference at 6 pm. This will need to be rescheduled. Ms. Lee let me know at 2 pm that she was not going to be able to do it, and good thing we had a planning period because I had to run off a note and get it in the folders to send home, and make sure Gustav understood what to tell parents at dismissal (don't come tonight!).
The sub praised my classroom management skills. That was nice. He said he knows it is very important "in this country." He was nice but kinda clueless- more a credit to the kids than to him that he could have managed them on his own.
I learned a lot today- there is a whole new level of things for me to pay closer attention to in the classroom, and to focus on in my own teaching. Transition would be an important one. And how about how long they work on a given subject or lesson? No bells at PSOhYes! It's easy to tell when they're "done" with a mini-lesson because they get wiggly, but I had to keep one eye on the clock to get them to lunch and the library, and it was pretty hard to do that piece of multitasking too.
Also, it was relatively easy to do what Ms. Lee asked me to do and focus on the surface issues of sticking to the routine, the things that the kids perceive as "the way we do things," but while we got through the day, I am not sure that today was my best teaching day, because I was focusing on getting through and being on time, and not as much on delivering the lessons.
Boy am I tired!
Here are a few nice choice-time products for your viewing pleasure:
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| Portrait of our class pet |
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| Vegetables from the school garden, where we did some sketching Tuesday |
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| A modeling-clay project |
Monday, September 24, 2012
Devil's in the details
I did my second mini-lesson today, also for language arts. My first one was for writing and this one was for reading: using a book mark as a prompt to do the reader's job of thinking about settings, characters, problems and changes in the beginning, middle and end of books we read.
When I first met Ms. Lee, she told me that she's not a big elaborate planner, she prefers to have the idea, "do it and then reflect on what worked and what didn't." This is not my usual style, but I recognize she's been doing this a long time and I need to go with the flow here, and I might even learn a different way of doing this. Still, there was a bit of anxiety, since as an undergraduate the lesson-plan format of the 1990s had been drilled into us good and hard, and, well, I tend to like to write things down and plan for contingencies.
Turns out the wing-it-and-reflect model can be a pretty sensible way to do it, too (although having ten years' experience helps a lot), and Ms. Lee is also very easygoing when things don't go quite right (for instance, we had a fire drill today that ruined our science-observation lesson: Oh well! Try again tomorrow).
During my first lesson last week, which my advisor observed, I used the ELMO and Ms. Lee couldn't really help me prepare because she had never used one- she wanted to learn from me how to use it. My big gaffe that day was trying to teach from behind the projector- doesn't really work! But she didn't make a big deal about it, and now I am kind of obsessed with positioning in the classroom, mine and students'. This is probably a good thing, especially since *tomorrow* I am teaching a mini-lesson on the compass rose and how to read maps. We will become human GPS units.... not.
But anyway. My current impression of teaching is that the devil is in the details. It's not hard to decide what to do or what students should get out of a lesson: the goals, the skills, and so forth. What IS hard is knowing what questions to ask, what language they know, what sorts of questions they are used to answering, how to challenge them but not stump them, and when to use what kinds of interactive activities to keep them engaged and to help you see if they are all learning.
This may be the trickiest part. The same kids raise their hands all the time, and it's hard to keep an eye on the ones who may wander mentally, who are not naturally "oh! oh! oh! I know, pick me!" and think of things to bring them back, draw them in, on the fly. You can have some ideas for ways to do this, but if you don't know how exactly they will each respond, it's hard to have a specific plan. This is this is the craft and the art of it, I suppose.
When I first met Ms. Lee, she told me that she's not a big elaborate planner, she prefers to have the idea, "do it and then reflect on what worked and what didn't." This is not my usual style, but I recognize she's been doing this a long time and I need to go with the flow here, and I might even learn a different way of doing this. Still, there was a bit of anxiety, since as an undergraduate the lesson-plan format of the 1990s had been drilled into us good and hard, and, well, I tend to like to write things down and plan for contingencies.
Turns out the wing-it-and-reflect model can be a pretty sensible way to do it, too (although having ten years' experience helps a lot), and Ms. Lee is also very easygoing when things don't go quite right (for instance, we had a fire drill today that ruined our science-observation lesson: Oh well! Try again tomorrow).
During my first lesson last week, which my advisor observed, I used the ELMO and Ms. Lee couldn't really help me prepare because she had never used one- she wanted to learn from me how to use it. My big gaffe that day was trying to teach from behind the projector- doesn't really work! But she didn't make a big deal about it, and now I am kind of obsessed with positioning in the classroom, mine and students'. This is probably a good thing, especially since *tomorrow* I am teaching a mini-lesson on the compass rose and how to read maps. We will become human GPS units.... not.
But anyway. My current impression of teaching is that the devil is in the details. It's not hard to decide what to do or what students should get out of a lesson: the goals, the skills, and so forth. What IS hard is knowing what questions to ask, what language they know, what sorts of questions they are used to answering, how to challenge them but not stump them, and when to use what kinds of interactive activities to keep them engaged and to help you see if they are all learning.
This may be the trickiest part. The same kids raise their hands all the time, and it's hard to keep an eye on the ones who may wander mentally, who are not naturally "oh! oh! oh! I know, pick me!" and think of things to bring them back, draw them in, on the fly. You can have some ideas for ways to do this, but if you don't know how exactly they will each respond, it's hard to have a specific plan. This is this is the craft and the art of it, I suppose.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Great big hug
Just a quick post to say that I got a huge group hug from my class today and it felt great! They almost knocked me over but it was really cool.
I was at school all 3 days this week and Ms. Lee asked the kids to thank me for all my hard work this week (which was kinda silly since I was just doing the usual, but was nice anyway).
So they all said thank you in a completely hyper, it's-Friday-and-we're-about-to-go-home way and then they rushed me, which ended with several people (including me) winding up in the closet.
A very nice ending to the week nonetheless!
I was at school all 3 days this week and Ms. Lee asked the kids to thank me for all my hard work this week (which was kinda silly since I was just doing the usual, but was nice anyway).
So they all said thank you in a completely hyper, it's-Friday-and-we're-about-to-go-home way and then they rushed me, which ended with several people (including me) winding up in the closet.
A very nice ending to the week nonetheless!
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The lunchroom
Survived (and even enjoyed! Shhh, don't tell) my first observation this week. Whew! Onward and upward.
At PSOhYes, student teachers are expected to do two days in the lunchroom of the three days you come to school. You do the lunch period that your own class has lunch (there are two lunch periods). Half of that time is recess and the other half is in the lunchroom; half the grade eats while the other half runs around. It's a logistical exercise for managing large groups of students; paired rows of kids coming out and going in the building simultaneously is slightly reminiscent of the Beijing Olympics displays, with the lines snaking around each other intricately. PSOhYes is pretty touchy-feely and Bank-Streety when it comes to the classroom, working with families, etc., but with the existing staff to student ratio for lunchtime, it's pretty much a crowd-control exercise, start to finish.
The teacher who manages the whole process for that period also does mini-mini lessons with the 125 or so kids: carving into their recess time with a megaphone (outside) and microphone (inside) to discuss the finer points of how we help each other have a nice lunch with as much time for playing and eating as possible. When the whistle blows, put the equipment away and line up. When your table is called, line up quickly and make sure you have all your stuff, trash, and so forth. A little social-emotional curriculum with your go-gurt.
It hadn't occurred to me that I was anything other than an extra adult set of eyes, but you do learn a lot about your kids (and about kids in general) in the lunchroom. A classmate told me that when she was working as a para, she was involved in writing IEPs at the school because she knew some kids better, and in more varied contexts, than some of the teachers, because she was with them at early drop-off and in the lunchroom.
In the lunchroom kids are not allowed to get up and roam, so they raise their hand if they need something (bathroom, water, to have you open some item in their lunch). Today Sam* raised his hand, and when I went over, he informed me that Tanya* and Brad* had traded items in their lunch. This is strongly discouraged because kids are often not mindful of their own food sensitivities, never mind other kids'. My daughter has a peanut allergy, so I am aware of this policy and why it exists.
I don't love a tattletale, but I couldn't very well overlook this once I had the information. I said, basically, look: I am not mad, I can see how this is tempting, but there are important reasons why we don't share food, and here is what they are. I asked them to trade back the food items. The whole table was listening, by this time.
Brad was fine, Sam went back to his lunch, but Tanya was completely horrified at being tattled on. I tried to wrap it up quickly and move on to another table, to try and make it seem like less of a big deal, and I saw Tanya shaking her fist at Sam. I watched her struggle with her frustration. Emotion took over her face. She dropped her head on her crossed arms and began to sob.
I was pleased to see her friends rally around her and give her hugs. She was somewhat mollified, but still upset. So I went over to her again once her friends had offered support and gone back to their lunches.
"Tanya, you are not in trouble. I am not mad, and I really, really understand how tempting it is. I really do. It was a mistake, but not a big deal. I know how unfair it feels to you," I said, without naming names and calling Sam out.
She nodded, tears spilling out of her eyes. I told her I was going to forget about it and she should too, and helped her dry her eyes.
She told me that afternoon that she was still really angry, but she was trying to let her feelings "fly away." Go Tanya.
A minor, silly incident, but I feel like I know these kids just a little bit better, having been there with them. Hopefully, next week in the lunchroom, it will just be food jars and defective juice box straws.
*All names are made-up
At PSOhYes, student teachers are expected to do two days in the lunchroom of the three days you come to school. You do the lunch period that your own class has lunch (there are two lunch periods). Half of that time is recess and the other half is in the lunchroom; half the grade eats while the other half runs around. It's a logistical exercise for managing large groups of students; paired rows of kids coming out and going in the building simultaneously is slightly reminiscent of the Beijing Olympics displays, with the lines snaking around each other intricately. PSOhYes is pretty touchy-feely and Bank-Streety when it comes to the classroom, working with families, etc., but with the existing staff to student ratio for lunchtime, it's pretty much a crowd-control exercise, start to finish.
The teacher who manages the whole process for that period also does mini-mini lessons with the 125 or so kids: carving into their recess time with a megaphone (outside) and microphone (inside) to discuss the finer points of how we help each other have a nice lunch with as much time for playing and eating as possible. When the whistle blows, put the equipment away and line up. When your table is called, line up quickly and make sure you have all your stuff, trash, and so forth. A little social-emotional curriculum with your go-gurt.
It hadn't occurred to me that I was anything other than an extra adult set of eyes, but you do learn a lot about your kids (and about kids in general) in the lunchroom. A classmate told me that when she was working as a para, she was involved in writing IEPs at the school because she knew some kids better, and in more varied contexts, than some of the teachers, because she was with them at early drop-off and in the lunchroom.
In the lunchroom kids are not allowed to get up and roam, so they raise their hand if they need something (bathroom, water, to have you open some item in their lunch). Today Sam* raised his hand, and when I went over, he informed me that Tanya* and Brad* had traded items in their lunch. This is strongly discouraged because kids are often not mindful of their own food sensitivities, never mind other kids'. My daughter has a peanut allergy, so I am aware of this policy and why it exists.
I don't love a tattletale, but I couldn't very well overlook this once I had the information. I said, basically, look: I am not mad, I can see how this is tempting, but there are important reasons why we don't share food, and here is what they are. I asked them to trade back the food items. The whole table was listening, by this time.
Brad was fine, Sam went back to his lunch, but Tanya was completely horrified at being tattled on. I tried to wrap it up quickly and move on to another table, to try and make it seem like less of a big deal, and I saw Tanya shaking her fist at Sam. I watched her struggle with her frustration. Emotion took over her face. She dropped her head on her crossed arms and began to sob.
I was pleased to see her friends rally around her and give her hugs. She was somewhat mollified, but still upset. So I went over to her again once her friends had offered support and gone back to their lunches.
"Tanya, you are not in trouble. I am not mad, and I really, really understand how tempting it is. I really do. It was a mistake, but not a big deal. I know how unfair it feels to you," I said, without naming names and calling Sam out.
She nodded, tears spilling out of her eyes. I told her I was going to forget about it and she should too, and helped her dry her eyes.
She told me that afternoon that she was still really angry, but she was trying to let her feelings "fly away." Go Tanya.
A minor, silly incident, but I feel like I know these kids just a little bit better, having been there with them. Hopefully, next week in the lunchroom, it will just be food jars and defective juice box straws.
*All names are made-up
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Work and Play
We are really getting down to work now. We are starting Writer's Notebooks, drafting our first publishing project as of tomorrow, and getting everyone re-assessed during Reading Workshop. Some issues with our two new students who came from other schools in both language and math. The other two new kids (one from another classroom, one from a G&T program) are fitting in well, but the whole class is showing me their true colors now. I know who is congenitally chatty, who needs constant hand-holding, who NEVER brings their folder from home or puts their work in the right place. Sigh. Scales fallen from eyes. They are still adorable, but it's warts and all, now.
Still, I am really pleased to see how much fun they still get to have as second graders. We had choice time today and they'll have it again tomorrow. This is a classroom of art lovers- aside from building with the PVC tubes (see last post) and blocks, everyone else (17 of 25) was doing painting, drawing, or modeling clay. As with last week, this week the kids who chose blocks made a little corral for Cutie-B, the class turtle. Here you can see the construction and one student showing him the stop sign (can Cutie read?).
They also had a lot of fun working on the classroom rules this week. They had done some posters last year which were still up, and they revisited and revised them, and then made new posters, working in groups. Ms. Lee suggested that they could do pop-ups, a kind of 3-D diorama by folding the bottom of the poster paper and making a 3-D illustration out of construction paper. I wasn't sure they could handle the complex cutting and spatial aspects, but they did really well. I had a hard time choosing just two out of the many great projects!!
Contrast this project with the amount of resistance we had to a math assessment which we also had them do today. They were like different kids. If they did math worksheet-type work all day (even Bank Street-style word problems), this class would be the whiniest group of work-avoiding foot-draggers on earth, no lie. It's wonderful to see how well they work together, how creative and focused they are, when they are at play!
Still, I am really pleased to see how much fun they still get to have as second graders. We had choice time today and they'll have it again tomorrow. This is a classroom of art lovers- aside from building with the PVC tubes (see last post) and blocks, everyone else (17 of 25) was doing painting, drawing, or modeling clay. As with last week, this week the kids who chose blocks made a little corral for Cutie-B, the class turtle. Here you can see the construction and one student showing him the stop sign (can Cutie read?).
They also had a lot of fun working on the classroom rules this week. They had done some posters last year which were still up, and they revisited and revised them, and then made new posters, working in groups. Ms. Lee suggested that they could do pop-ups, a kind of 3-D diorama by folding the bottom of the poster paper and making a 3-D illustration out of construction paper. I wasn't sure they could handle the complex cutting and spatial aspects, but they did really well. I had a hard time choosing just two out of the many great projects!!
Contrast this project with the amount of resistance we had to a math assessment which we also had them do today. They were like different kids. If they did math worksheet-type work all day (even Bank Street-style word problems), this class would be the whiniest group of work-avoiding foot-draggers on earth, no lie. It's wonderful to see how well they work together, how creative and focused they are, when they are at play!
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Stage is set!
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| Stage built by a second grade student with PVC-pipe building elements |
Today was a great First Day of School. We had a new admit over the days I was not there, for a total of four new students and a class of 25. Everyone came to school, and Ms. Lee hugged all of her returning students as well as a few that were not her students but they love her anyway. Her students adore her, it's clear, and are thrilled to have her again for another year.
I met almost all the parents today, and to a person they were welcoming and enthusiastic (they were hugging each other too!), and said how lucky I was to be working in this class, with this teacher. It was, I will say, very nice to have a classroom full of kids who knew the teacher, knew each other, and knew the drill- not that that kept them in their seats, but it made things easier for sure. Of the new students, some in the class had gone to kindergarten or even pre-K with two of them, so they were known as well. That left two completely new kids that we discussed during our planning time- how did their skills seem? How did they do socially? How will they fit into the class?
Ms. Lee is very intuitive- she seems to like to do and then reflect, rather than plan and execute. That's not my style, but she has a fairly low-key energy that's intuitive and nicely-paced, mellow. The kids can tell she's happy to be there with them. We did some community-building activities that were very interactive, and then a little math, a little individual reading, a read-aloud, and some math before lunch.
The kids are so cute- even though they have never seen me at this school before, they still assume I know everything. "Karen, are we having recess today?" "Sorry, this is my first day and I'm not really sure!" Ha. That really threw them off. But I did some reading with a few of them and they seemed to like me ok.
This is a photo of a construction that one of our new students did during choice time. It's a stage- the peaked part is the proscenium and the tall pieces to either side are the lights. I wonder what her parents do? It's an interesting use of them and she worked on it for quite a while. The other kids who played with these mostly made 3D constructions with the joining corners.
Apparently this set came from a science-leadership student teacher who designed these for the NY Hall of Science and left a set. Very cool addition to blocks, etc., although a bit heavy- the tall pieces are about 18 inches long.
I didn't get to set up the ELMO this week and it's still not set up, but I am determined. Next week!!
Friday, August 31, 2012
Ready?
Over the last few days I've had the opportunity to help Ms. Lee* set up her room as well as to meet many other teachers, see their rooms, and the general state of play before the students arrive at PSOhYes next Thursday.
First of all, it brought back great memories of helping my mom set up her classrooms when I was a kid, which I had completely forgotten. That was nice. Like the year I designed a "monster" (like a muppet character) with the name of a classical musician for each subject ("Wolfgang" was math) and made an elaborate set of labels, etc., for her third grade. She used those for years.
Anyway. Ms. Lee is experienced, and she's moving with her students to a new grade, so some niggling stuff (name tags) was mostly done but others that you wouldn't need to worry about teaching the same grade (library) needed attention. Her room was not "done." But I spent an hour making a hand-lettered "welcome" sign with everyone's name on it. Great to get back to my art-school roots!
One of the other teachers is a "rainbow geek" (self-described). Her curtains were tie-dyed rainbow spirals and all her folders and bins made rainbows all over the room. It was GREAT. That, I thought, is going to be me. I aspire to rainbow geekdom.
But on to more important matters. Ms. Lee is getting an ELMO classroom projector for the first time ever! I am going to look into ways you can use it. It's not that hard, but new equipment just days before school starts is a big challenge when you have other, new-grade-level stuff to do. This will be my project for Wednesday, setting it up; I hope Ms. Lee brings her laptop. She is getting it because the mini-school teachers are getting all new equipment. She is not getting her printer replaced, which is stressing her out because she relies on it being right in the classroom. This will be an adjustment, I can see. I hope to help her with the transition. This may mean I am running upstairs to get stuff she is printing while class is going on!
So all of this means the IT staff is completely overwhelmed. The laminating machine was out of commission both days I was there (major problem for making signs and labels) and one copier was down. There's no way they'll have time to come in and set up the ELMO. And... it's waiting for shared resources like this that can really slow down the prep process.
That said, it leaves more time for leisurely lunches, hearing about each other's vacations and catching up on news. One of our students' baby siblings is very ill and may not survive. That will be an issue for this child, and something we need to prepare for. I don't envy Ms. Lee in responding to the email she got from the child's parents about this.
I am really looking forward to meeting the students, but trying to catch up on rest before next week- my daughter is starting at a new school as well, so we're all bound to be exhausted by the end of the week!
*Not her real name
First of all, it brought back great memories of helping my mom set up her classrooms when I was a kid, which I had completely forgotten. That was nice. Like the year I designed a "monster" (like a muppet character) with the name of a classical musician for each subject ("Wolfgang" was math) and made an elaborate set of labels, etc., for her third grade. She used those for years.
Anyway. Ms. Lee is experienced, and she's moving with her students to a new grade, so some niggling stuff (name tags) was mostly done but others that you wouldn't need to worry about teaching the same grade (library) needed attention. Her room was not "done." But I spent an hour making a hand-lettered "welcome" sign with everyone's name on it. Great to get back to my art-school roots!
One of the other teachers is a "rainbow geek" (self-described). Her curtains were tie-dyed rainbow spirals and all her folders and bins made rainbows all over the room. It was GREAT. That, I thought, is going to be me. I aspire to rainbow geekdom.
But on to more important matters. Ms. Lee is getting an ELMO classroom projector for the first time ever! I am going to look into ways you can use it. It's not that hard, but new equipment just days before school starts is a big challenge when you have other, new-grade-level stuff to do. This will be my project for Wednesday, setting it up; I hope Ms. Lee brings her laptop. She is getting it because the mini-school teachers are getting all new equipment. She is not getting her printer replaced, which is stressing her out because she relies on it being right in the classroom. This will be an adjustment, I can see. I hope to help her with the transition. This may mean I am running upstairs to get stuff she is printing while class is going on!
So all of this means the IT staff is completely overwhelmed. The laminating machine was out of commission both days I was there (major problem for making signs and labels) and one copier was down. There's no way they'll have time to come in and set up the ELMO. And... it's waiting for shared resources like this that can really slow down the prep process.
That said, it leaves more time for leisurely lunches, hearing about each other's vacations and catching up on news. One of our students' baby siblings is very ill and may not survive. That will be an issue for this child, and something we need to prepare for. I don't envy Ms. Lee in responding to the email she got from the child's parents about this.
I am really looking forward to meeting the students, but trying to catch up on rest before next week- my daughter is starting at a new school as well, so we're all bound to be exhausted by the end of the week!
*Not her real name
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Fresh Paint, Fresh Start
I was at Bank Street the other day and pleased to discover that the stairwell had the new-school-year fresh paint smell. I love that smell, and it makes me think of warm fall days, knee socks and new school supplies, and the fact that I never got over the first day of school. Long after it ceased to be meaningful to my schedule (after I left teaching behind in my 20's but before my daughter went to school, a hiatus of about at least 15 years), I still thought about the first day of school, and got that "back to school" feeling just before Labor Day. Sometimes I'd buy myself some new pens or a notebook, just to enjoy the season.
Of course, taking classes at Bank Street did give me the opportunity to participate in "back to school" these last few years. But wait: notebooks? Pens? Wasn't I supposed to take notes on my laptop? Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't- I've taken online classes with assigned youtube videos for class "readings" as well as classes with instructors who still rely on Village Copiers wayyyy too much, if you know what I mean.
And now I am about to find out what first grade is like in the 21st century. My daughter will only be in pre-K this year, so it's a preview for what first grade will be like for her, as well as what it's like for me in my new career as a teacher (hopefully teacher of first grade, my preferred age group). I will do my first student-teaching placement at PSOhYes*, as in everyone has heard of this school and it's in A Nice Part of Brooklyn (henceforth: ANPOB). To be fair, I think I live in a nice part of Brooklyn, but this is not my neighborhood school, and I hope this is enough anonymity for everyone.
Stay tuned y'all!! I will be starting next week.
Oh, and * is props to Pam Jones at Bank Street for allowing me to appropriate, without her consent, the use of "PSXXX," a la her hilarious and tragic tales of PSOhNo. Thanks, Pam.
Of course, taking classes at Bank Street did give me the opportunity to participate in "back to school" these last few years. But wait: notebooks? Pens? Wasn't I supposed to take notes on my laptop? Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't- I've taken online classes with assigned youtube videos for class "readings" as well as classes with instructors who still rely on Village Copiers wayyyy too much, if you know what I mean.
And now I am about to find out what first grade is like in the 21st century. My daughter will only be in pre-K this year, so it's a preview for what first grade will be like for her, as well as what it's like for me in my new career as a teacher (hopefully teacher of first grade, my preferred age group). I will do my first student-teaching placement at PSOhYes*, as in everyone has heard of this school and it's in A Nice Part of Brooklyn (henceforth: ANPOB). To be fair, I think I live in a nice part of Brooklyn, but this is not my neighborhood school, and I hope this is enough anonymity for everyone.
Stay tuned y'all!! I will be starting next week.
Oh, and * is props to Pam Jones at Bank Street for allowing me to appropriate, without her consent, the use of "PSXXX," a la her hilarious and tragic tales of PSOhNo. Thanks, Pam.
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