It's two and a half days before spring break and my students are driving me crazy. Correction, some of my students are driving me crazy. Correction, Carter is driving me crazy. All year long we have been working diligently with Carter. He has received pull out support services, after school tutoring, before school tutoring, lunch time tutoring. I conference with him in reading twice as often as everyone else. Despite all this, he still is not moving in reading. This probably has something to do with the fact that when he is not getting one-on-one support he is coloring, staring out the window, talking to a neighbor, digging through his desk, taking off his shoes, leaning backward in his chair, trying to check out new books, trying to go to the bathroom, and/or trying to do anything that isn't reading. This is irritating on its own, but also because it shows a distinct lack of gratitude for all the incredible ways that I am being such an awesome teacher by going above and beyond to meet his needs. (Yes, I can be this petty.)
I get it. We have had some very tearful conversations together in which he has confessed his humiliation about the fact that he struggles with reading. I've tried being the good cop who smiles, encourages every effort, and celebrates every progress. I often default to bad cop and take away his recess, other privileges, and remind him that he needs to pass more reading tests to pass the grade. There has been progress, but considering the support, it has been minimal.
Meanwhile, Carter has been stealing things from my classroom, lying about stealing, harassing other students, CONSTANTLY talking, and of course, avoiding work. The regular blog readers may also remember him for his previous antics of punching another student in the stomach for writing a "bully ticket" about him. For those of you who are the diagnosing type--I know. It's work avoidance and stems from a lot of social emotion problems about which I can most often be very compassionate and understanding. But it's also so annoying. Especially two and a half days before a much needed break from one another.
In an effort to engage him in work yet again, I decided to invite him and a friend to game time on Wednesdays. Every Wednesday we are now playing games together during lunch. Having received an awesome Donor's Choose Grant, I now have thirty board games in my classroom that allow students to practice reading, science, and math skills with almost every game that Lakeshore Learning provides. The grant is incredible, but I digress. Carter and his friend came up today to play the word blending game, Tiki Challenge. As I was pulling out the board game, Carter said to me, "Ms. Swanson, you're the best teacher ever."
OK, I'm a primary teacher and we hear these things a lot. In fact, I have at least six cards taped to my wall right now that share a similar sentiment. It's sweet, but most often fleeting. Carter's friend kind of snickered, so I said back, "Why, because I let you play games during lunch."
"No, Ms. Swanson, because you care about me. You're like my mother is to me. You're like my mom."
It's moments like that when the fatigue and stress of a busy month intersect with the weighty and sacred responsibility of helping to shape a child's life. And I realize just how lucky I am to have Carter in my classroom. Even when he refuses to do his work and instead swings his arms around until someone near him gets stabbed with his pencil. Today I got a reality check and Carter changed my mind.
And for the record, my students are like my children to me. Even the Carters.
How Children Change Our Lives
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Reason #13 They Have Innovative Ideas
My class has a problem with bullying. I feel a little ashamed to admit that on such a public forum, as teachers are often only seen as effective when they can manage their students, and this indicates a deficit in my management. Also, I have written some flowery posts about their care and concern for one another. That's all true. Also, some of them are absolutely hateful toward one another. That's also true.
Sometimes the bullying is small, like laughing at another student every time they make a mistake. However, one of my students with special needs had started going home and telling her mother she didn't want to go to school anymore. That broke my heart. I pride my classroom as being one that students want to come to each day, and take great measures to make it a friendly and supportive atmosphere. So several weeks ago I called an emergency class meeting. Something had to be done about our bullying problem.
We sat around our meeting rug and shared times that we had felt bullied or teased. Then I asked the students how they felt we should deal with this problem in our classroom. Malika got up to take notes on the white board, and the students started brainstorming various ideas.
"What if we made posters that reminded us not to bully?"
"We could have a petition and people could sign up not to bully."
"We could have conversations with the person who is being a bully."
"What if we had a bully ticket and we could give it to people who are acting like bullies?"
That night I started to put their plans into action. I went to the library and checked out twenty books about bullying (plug here that the library is AWESOME!) Then I went to Staples and got poster supplies and twenty mini clip boards for all my students. The next day, we had a working afternoon, planning out our anti-bully campaign. One group worked on posters, another designed the bully ticket. A third group made a petition, and the final group decided to make "Caught Doing Right" tickets to recognize good behavior. Everyone decorated their clip boards that they could carry everywhere, fully stocked with their Bully Tickets and Caught Doing Right tickets. Since markers, foam stickers, and clip boards were involved, the activity was a raging success. But would this decrease bullying?
After a week of collecting tickets we sat down the next Friday to discuss the bully tickets. The students decided they wanted names of people receiving the tickets to be read, but not their behaviors or who had given the bully tickets. Then we would talk to the people who were having the biggest issues. After reading off close to 100 Bully Tickets, we had our two culprits: David and Andrew. Andrew was particularly distraught hearing his name so many times, so we started with him.
Andrew called on students to give him suggestions of how he could make sure that his name wasn't on Bully Tickets the following weeks.
"I think people would like it if you didn't talk about their families."
"Maybe you shouldn't make inappropriate gestures toward me."
"Probably you shouldn't use bad words."
It was a hard lesson in constructive criticism, but overall Andrew took it like a champ. It was followed by compliments of things we like about Andrew, of which there were many. I was so impressed with my students' articulation, thoughtfulness, and maturity in handling the situation. Also, those 100 Bully Tickets represented 100 less times that someone came up to me to tattle, so at least in my eyes, my students had come up with great ideas, taken ownership, and been truly successful.
Andrew learned a lesson, too. Going back to his seat I overheard him saying to himself, "My mom always told me that my mouth would get me in trouble some day, and boy was she right!"
We have all learned some good lessons in our class. There's still some bullying, but having a method to deal with it when it happens has helped give agency to my students and eliminated some of the unnecessary bullying. Sure, it's not perfect and Carter punched Joe in the stomach when he started writing a bully ticket about him, but hey, we're making progress.
Sometimes the bullying is small, like laughing at another student every time they make a mistake. However, one of my students with special needs had started going home and telling her mother she didn't want to go to school anymore. That broke my heart. I pride my classroom as being one that students want to come to each day, and take great measures to make it a friendly and supportive atmosphere. So several weeks ago I called an emergency class meeting. Something had to be done about our bullying problem.
We sat around our meeting rug and shared times that we had felt bullied or teased. Then I asked the students how they felt we should deal with this problem in our classroom. Malika got up to take notes on the white board, and the students started brainstorming various ideas.
"What if we made posters that reminded us not to bully?"
"We could have a petition and people could sign up not to bully."
"We could have conversations with the person who is being a bully."
"What if we had a bully ticket and we could give it to people who are acting like bullies?"
That night I started to put their plans into action. I went to the library and checked out twenty books about bullying (plug here that the library is AWESOME!) Then I went to Staples and got poster supplies and twenty mini clip boards for all my students. The next day, we had a working afternoon, planning out our anti-bully campaign. One group worked on posters, another designed the bully ticket. A third group made a petition, and the final group decided to make "Caught Doing Right" tickets to recognize good behavior. Everyone decorated their clip boards that they could carry everywhere, fully stocked with their Bully Tickets and Caught Doing Right tickets. Since markers, foam stickers, and clip boards were involved, the activity was a raging success. But would this decrease bullying?
After a week of collecting tickets we sat down the next Friday to discuss the bully tickets. The students decided they wanted names of people receiving the tickets to be read, but not their behaviors or who had given the bully tickets. Then we would talk to the people who were having the biggest issues. After reading off close to 100 Bully Tickets, we had our two culprits: David and Andrew. Andrew was particularly distraught hearing his name so many times, so we started with him.
Andrew called on students to give him suggestions of how he could make sure that his name wasn't on Bully Tickets the following weeks.
"I think people would like it if you didn't talk about their families."
"Maybe you shouldn't make inappropriate gestures toward me."
"Probably you shouldn't use bad words."
It was a hard lesson in constructive criticism, but overall Andrew took it like a champ. It was followed by compliments of things we like about Andrew, of which there were many. I was so impressed with my students' articulation, thoughtfulness, and maturity in handling the situation. Also, those 100 Bully Tickets represented 100 less times that someone came up to me to tattle, so at least in my eyes, my students had come up with great ideas, taken ownership, and been truly successful.
Andrew learned a lesson, too. Going back to his seat I overheard him saying to himself, "My mom always told me that my mouth would get me in trouble some day, and boy was she right!"
We have all learned some good lessons in our class. There's still some bullying, but having a method to deal with it when it happens has helped give agency to my students and eliminated some of the unnecessary bullying. Sure, it's not perfect and Carter punched Joe in the stomach when he started writing a bully ticket about him, but hey, we're making progress.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Reason #12 They remind you
I remember my first time. For my ninth birthday my parents gave me a gift certificate to our local children's bookstore, The Red Balloon, and I chose to buy Matilda by Roald Dahl. It was a big deal to venture away from the many different "series" books I had been reading, like The Babysitter's Club, and Sweet Valley Twins. However, my sister, who I saw as a little lower than the gods, had recommended this book to me and therefore I had to read it.
Read it I did. Sitting at the Labor Day picnic with my parents and their friends, I devoured Matilda. I read and kept reading, despite laugher floating around me, and a full-sized children's playhouse to tempt me. I was lost in the world of reading. It was the first time I realized that reading isn't just telling stories. It's magic.
Yes, I am a nerd when it comes to reading. At the advice of Levar Burton, I took a look in a book, and the rest is history. Each year in my classroom, I see it as my job to transfer this magic to my students. It isn't just because I love reading, though that is a large part of it, but reading is necessary for student achievement. Students who are not on reading level by first grade are likely to stay behind in reading forever. One report says that 70% of prison inmates score below the 4th grade level of reading. Teaching a child to read doesn't just open up new worlds of books, it opens up legitimate and legal opportunities for their futures.
My favorite part of every day is the hour we have for reading. I sit down with students, pull out their reading folders, talk to them about what their reading, write their reading goals in their reading notebooks, and watch them transform into bonafide readers. Magic.
This has been taking place is a brand new way this year in my classroom due to my donorschoose grant I received for nook e-readers. In our latest batch of testing data, it showed that my highest readers were not growing at the rate of the rest of my students. This is not surprising, as many schools encourage teachers to teach the lowest readers, since the highest ones are slated to pass the tests with or without my instruction. However, at one time I was one of those "high readers" and therefore am unwilling to leave them behind. Each of the six readers has a nook to read and take home. They treat them as precious gold, cradling them in their arms like new born babies. One girl brought a hand purse from home to put her nook in, and she proudly struts the building with her new fashion accessory. The e-readers have piqued my students' interest for books.
However, that is just the start. Interest isn't enough, it has to be followed with commitment and determination. Enter: Shanna. Shanna is a sassifrass who is too smart for her own good, but has been listlessly thumbing through Frog and Toad for most of the year. In spite of many conferences, the extend of her reading log has been board books and the occasional Captain Underpants novel. Uninspired to say the least, she would rather chat than spend thirty minutes of her time reading.
I decided to introduce Shanna to Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. I read this in fifth grade, and still haven't forgotten the epic "Man vs. Wild" saga of a teenage boy left to fend for himself in the wilderness of the north woods with only a hatchet for company. I gave her a short book introduction, and sent her on her way crossing my fingers that she would be drawn in by this new book.
Was she ever. The next day she had read not just the first two chapters as I had asked, but the first FIVE chapters. In the past two days she has gotten to chapter thirteen, and is likely to finish the book this weekend. I now get chapter by chapter status updates of Brian's progress in the woods, whether I want them or not, whether I am teaching the students about reading, or in the middle of a science lesson. I have to pry the nook from her hands when it's time for other subjects, because otherwise she is drawn back to her story like my other students are drawn to their flaming hot Cheetos.
Did I mention that this same sassifrass girl, the one who would look me straight in the eye and laugh in my face, has had almost no behavior infractions since she started to read Hatchet? (She did, after all, chase James around the room when he tried to take her nook) See, reading really is magic, and it really does change lives.
Read it I did. Sitting at the Labor Day picnic with my parents and their friends, I devoured Matilda. I read and kept reading, despite laugher floating around me, and a full-sized children's playhouse to tempt me. I was lost in the world of reading. It was the first time I realized that reading isn't just telling stories. It's magic.
Yes, I am a nerd when it comes to reading. At the advice of Levar Burton, I took a look in a book, and the rest is history. Each year in my classroom, I see it as my job to transfer this magic to my students. It isn't just because I love reading, though that is a large part of it, but reading is necessary for student achievement. Students who are not on reading level by first grade are likely to stay behind in reading forever. One report says that 70% of prison inmates score below the 4th grade level of reading. Teaching a child to read doesn't just open up new worlds of books, it opens up legitimate and legal opportunities for their futures.
My favorite part of every day is the hour we have for reading. I sit down with students, pull out their reading folders, talk to them about what their reading, write their reading goals in their reading notebooks, and watch them transform into bonafide readers. Magic.
This has been taking place is a brand new way this year in my classroom due to my donorschoose grant I received for nook e-readers. In our latest batch of testing data, it showed that my highest readers were not growing at the rate of the rest of my students. This is not surprising, as many schools encourage teachers to teach the lowest readers, since the highest ones are slated to pass the tests with or without my instruction. However, at one time I was one of those "high readers" and therefore am unwilling to leave them behind. Each of the six readers has a nook to read and take home. They treat them as precious gold, cradling them in their arms like new born babies. One girl brought a hand purse from home to put her nook in, and she proudly struts the building with her new fashion accessory. The e-readers have piqued my students' interest for books.
However, that is just the start. Interest isn't enough, it has to be followed with commitment and determination. Enter: Shanna. Shanna is a sassifrass who is too smart for her own good, but has been listlessly thumbing through Frog and Toad for most of the year. In spite of many conferences, the extend of her reading log has been board books and the occasional Captain Underpants novel. Uninspired to say the least, she would rather chat than spend thirty minutes of her time reading.
I decided to introduce Shanna to Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. I read this in fifth grade, and still haven't forgotten the epic "Man vs. Wild" saga of a teenage boy left to fend for himself in the wilderness of the north woods with only a hatchet for company. I gave her a short book introduction, and sent her on her way crossing my fingers that she would be drawn in by this new book.
Was she ever. The next day she had read not just the first two chapters as I had asked, but the first FIVE chapters. In the past two days she has gotten to chapter thirteen, and is likely to finish the book this weekend. I now get chapter by chapter status updates of Brian's progress in the woods, whether I want them or not, whether I am teaching the students about reading, or in the middle of a science lesson. I have to pry the nook from her hands when it's time for other subjects, because otherwise she is drawn back to her story like my other students are drawn to their flaming hot Cheetos.
Did I mention that this same sassifrass girl, the one who would look me straight in the eye and laugh in my face, has had almost no behavior infractions since she started to read Hatchet? (She did, after all, chase James around the room when he tried to take her nook) See, reading really is magic, and it really does change lives.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Reason #11 They keep you honest
I will never forget the day, two months into teaching a group of unique and brutally honest seventh graders, that my student came up to ask me what the thing was hanging from the lanyard over my neck. I answered, perhaps too proudly, that it was my keys and a gym membership card. She looked at me sideways and said, "Oh. You don't look like you go to the gym." And then she walked back to her seat leaving me in a puddle of mortification. There have been countless more moments like this one in my teaching career. I have gotten tough, or tougher, but kids sure do have a way of knocking you off that pedestal you didn't know you'd been balancing on.
My co-teacher had her kindergarten student come up to her adoringly and stroke her hair that she had haphazardly put in a pony tale. "You're so beautiful" he said. "But only when you wear your hair down. Not when it's up like that." Ouch! When she told me she was somewhere between a belly laugh and a grimace.
A few days ago my other colleague told me she was getting into a conversation with a student about the definition of a habit. She told him it is something that you do all the time, sometimes without even knowing it. "Like the way you chew on pens?" he offered. Touche.
I am of the belief that if a child is honestly speaking their mind with you it signifies some sort of trust. A friend recently told me in her Early Childhood and Family Education class they talked about how healthy kids will tell parents they hate them, will test boundaries and limits, and will push parents away, because they know that they are always safe to come back. They are safe in their parent's love for them and therefore willing and able to take risks. Of course, that leaves the rest of us bruised and sometimes battered by the pushing and the honesty we weren't quite sure we wanted. But I try to keep that in mind when David writes me an "anonymous" note that says, "I hate tattle tells, and I hate it here!"
Teachers get a big brunt of the exposure, but parents have it the worst. Like it or not, children are the sponges that pick up our clean and our dirty, and then squeeze it out just when we thought we were safe. Last week one of my students was caught doing something naughty while standing next to his best friend. A teacher friend said to student one, "Why did you do that? That is a nasty attitude!" Without hesitation, student one's best friend piped in, "Oh, he gets that from his mama!"
Maybe it will be awhile before I have kids of my own. I'm not sure I'm ready for the level of self reflection necessary to be the sole bearer of the wisdom from these little truth sayers. In the meantime, though, I have twenty student ready and waiting to breech the gap.
My co-teacher had her kindergarten student come up to her adoringly and stroke her hair that she had haphazardly put in a pony tale. "You're so beautiful" he said. "But only when you wear your hair down. Not when it's up like that." Ouch! When she told me she was somewhere between a belly laugh and a grimace.
A few days ago my other colleague told me she was getting into a conversation with a student about the definition of a habit. She told him it is something that you do all the time, sometimes without even knowing it. "Like the way you chew on pens?" he offered. Touche.
I am of the belief that if a child is honestly speaking their mind with you it signifies some sort of trust. A friend recently told me in her Early Childhood and Family Education class they talked about how healthy kids will tell parents they hate them, will test boundaries and limits, and will push parents away, because they know that they are always safe to come back. They are safe in their parent's love for them and therefore willing and able to take risks. Of course, that leaves the rest of us bruised and sometimes battered by the pushing and the honesty we weren't quite sure we wanted. But I try to keep that in mind when David writes me an "anonymous" note that says, "I hate tattle tells, and I hate it here!"
Teachers get a big brunt of the exposure, but parents have it the worst. Like it or not, children are the sponges that pick up our clean and our dirty, and then squeeze it out just when we thought we were safe. Last week one of my students was caught doing something naughty while standing next to his best friend. A teacher friend said to student one, "Why did you do that? That is a nasty attitude!" Without hesitation, student one's best friend piped in, "Oh, he gets that from his mama!"
Maybe it will be awhile before I have kids of my own. I'm not sure I'm ready for the level of self reflection necessary to be the sole bearer of the wisdom from these little truth sayers. In the meantime, though, I have twenty student ready and waiting to breech the gap.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Reason #10: They Give What They Have
A few months ago one of my student's family's house burned down. Thank goodness no one was hurt, but being immigrants they had little to begin with and much of their income was the cash burned by the fire. The day after the fire Anna came to school with tears in her eyes. A translator told us that the family house had burned down and they were staying with friends. Anna spent most of the day with her head on her desk. She fell asleep at one point and at another she helped me set up our new bulletin board. Her usual bubbly personality was subdued by the shock of what had happened the day before.
Enter: Max. Max is a student with a hearing aid, a tiny stature, and the goofiest personality and dance moves you can find in an eight year old. He slurs his words slightly when he speaks, and for the life of me I cannot get him to focus for more than about thirty seconds at a time. Max is in love with another girl in the classroom, who also has hearing problems, a small stature, and a disdain for Max. She spends most of her time putting up colored folder towers to block her face from Max's adoring looks. The remaining moments of her time are spent telling me that Max is looking at her again, or making vague comments like, "How do you get someone you don't like to stop bothering you?" Max persists.
A week after the fire burned Anna's house, Max came up to me to ask if I got the letter from his grandma. I said that I had given it to the office, like it said on the envelope. He kept bringing it up, though. Eventually he told me that his grandmother would like to help get something for Anna and her family. I told him that I thought that was very nice, and the office dealt with the details of getting the families together.
The day before Christmas break, Max's grandmother asked if she could come for the party that was being thrown for our students. Volunteers were coming to help rotate the students through a series of stations, including "Pictures with the Grinch" and "Decorate Cookies" while the teachers took over the second floor of the building and had their own holiday party including "Dance to the latest hip-hop music" and "Ignore the screaming downstairs". Unfortunately for the volunteers, their party came after the classroom parties which included "Shove your mouths full of sugar" and "Stay still and quiet for movies". Due to the high parent volunteer turn out of my classroom, our stations were relative successful. Unfortunately we were the exception.
Leaving school that day, Max's grandmother came up to me and told me that I have a real gift. She said you have to be called to be a teacher. I agreed. Then she asked about Anna. I told her that she seemed to be doing well, and that it was really nice of her to donate some things to Anna. She looked at me and said, "Yes, Max was so upset to hear about what happened to Anna. He came home one day crying. We talked about it and I asked him what he wanted to do to help. He decided that he would give up his Christmas presents, and we could use that money in order to buy some things for Anna."
My heart grew three sizes that day. As I told one of my coworkers the story while we waited outside at dismissal, I saw Max running off with the YMCA after school program. All of a sudden, he stopped and came sprinting top speed back to his grandmother. His grandmother lightly scolded, "Max, go along to the Y." He looked up at her, gave her a huge hug, said "I love you" and went sprinting back to his after school group. Max's grandmother looked at me and we smiled. Yes, teaching is a calling I am grateful to have received.
Enter: Max. Max is a student with a hearing aid, a tiny stature, and the goofiest personality and dance moves you can find in an eight year old. He slurs his words slightly when he speaks, and for the life of me I cannot get him to focus for more than about thirty seconds at a time. Max is in love with another girl in the classroom, who also has hearing problems, a small stature, and a disdain for Max. She spends most of her time putting up colored folder towers to block her face from Max's adoring looks. The remaining moments of her time are spent telling me that Max is looking at her again, or making vague comments like, "How do you get someone you don't like to stop bothering you?" Max persists.
A week after the fire burned Anna's house, Max came up to me to ask if I got the letter from his grandma. I said that I had given it to the office, like it said on the envelope. He kept bringing it up, though. Eventually he told me that his grandmother would like to help get something for Anna and her family. I told him that I thought that was very nice, and the office dealt with the details of getting the families together.
The day before Christmas break, Max's grandmother asked if she could come for the party that was being thrown for our students. Volunteers were coming to help rotate the students through a series of stations, including "Pictures with the Grinch" and "Decorate Cookies" while the teachers took over the second floor of the building and had their own holiday party including "Dance to the latest hip-hop music" and "Ignore the screaming downstairs". Unfortunately for the volunteers, their party came after the classroom parties which included "Shove your mouths full of sugar" and "Stay still and quiet for movies". Due to the high parent volunteer turn out of my classroom, our stations were relative successful. Unfortunately we were the exception.
Leaving school that day, Max's grandmother came up to me and told me that I have a real gift. She said you have to be called to be a teacher. I agreed. Then she asked about Anna. I told her that she seemed to be doing well, and that it was really nice of her to donate some things to Anna. She looked at me and said, "Yes, Max was so upset to hear about what happened to Anna. He came home one day crying. We talked about it and I asked him what he wanted to do to help. He decided that he would give up his Christmas presents, and we could use that money in order to buy some things for Anna."
My heart grew three sizes that day. As I told one of my coworkers the story while we waited outside at dismissal, I saw Max running off with the YMCA after school program. All of a sudden, he stopped and came sprinting top speed back to his grandmother. His grandmother lightly scolded, "Max, go along to the Y." He looked up at her, gave her a huge hug, said "I love you" and went sprinting back to his after school group. Max's grandmother looked at me and we smiled. Yes, teaching is a calling I am grateful to have received.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Reason #9: They humble you with how much they care
Every day we read a book together. The books vary from silly to thoughtful to philosophical to informative. Throughout the story I will stop from time to time to ask students questions, and they will turn to their reading buddy and share their responses to the questions while I listen in to their conversations. For those non-education folk, it's a process called "Interactive Read Aloud" the interactive part being when students get to respond to the story, not just listen to it. I have some personal favorites I like to share, like Spoon, The Dot, and Bill and Pete (a crowd pleaser, since the poaching villian is seen running away butt naked after being scared off from his bath by the crocodile he had originally captured for suitcase skins)
However, I recently discovered a lovely book called Press Here. Each page gives a direction, and then upon turning the page the shape, size, and placements of the dots change seemingly in response to the reader's action. Not only is the book a brilliant way to teach following directions, it is also a delightful read aloud. Last Friday I read it to my students. No, it wasn't rigorous, but each student got to have a chance interacting with the book as I jogged from person to person and they tilted, tapped, and rubbed the book. At the end, I briefly mentioned that a book doesn't have to be hard and frustrating in order to be fun. (I have a LOT of readers trying to read books FAR too challenging for them, as evidenced today when one student entered the room exclaiming, "Mrs. Swanson, I'm reading Moby Dick!!")
At the end of every Friday we also have a chance for students to reflect on their week in the form of a weekly letter. It is something I did with my seventh graders my first year teaching, and I decided to bring it back this year with my third graders. On fancy and fun paper, students respond to three prompts: One thing I thought went well this week was... One thing I thought didn't go well was... My big goal for next week is... Students will respond to varying levels of depth and thought, and the letters are quite enjoyable to read and respond to over the weekend. The students are always excited to come in the room on Monday morning to find a colorful envelope on their desks.
Last Friday, I was especially touched by one girl's letter. This is a student who has been very kind from the first day of school. When other mope and moan, she smiles and participates. She can be somewhat of a tattle tale if someone isn't shaping up to her standards, but she is a dearheart who invited every student in the classroom to her birthday pool party, and who gives her partner a high five if they have done well. Her mom should be extremely proud of her. It's even more impressive because this little girl has some significant health issues that have meant she has had to be prodded by doctors and has long term effects on her life choices. However, she never complains and never expects special treatment.
Therefore, I was so amazed at reading her letter:
Dear Ms. Swanson,
One thing I thought went well this week was: "thank you for reading Press Hear". Everybody loves the book, even me!
One thing that didn't go well this week was: "I did not have a chance to press, sake, or tip the book and my brother did not give me a gift"
My big goal for next week is: be happy for someone who gets picked for working hard.
Love,
Angie
OK, besides making me feeling TERRIBLE for not picking her (I thought I got everyone!) I think this is the most adorable thing that makes me want to go out and hug the whole world and love everyone just a little bit more. I want to be happy for people who get celebrated, and I swear that if I become more able to be happy for those who are happy, it will be in part because of Angie.
However, I recently discovered a lovely book called Press Here. Each page gives a direction, and then upon turning the page the shape, size, and placements of the dots change seemingly in response to the reader's action. Not only is the book a brilliant way to teach following directions, it is also a delightful read aloud. Last Friday I read it to my students. No, it wasn't rigorous, but each student got to have a chance interacting with the book as I jogged from person to person and they tilted, tapped, and rubbed the book. At the end, I briefly mentioned that a book doesn't have to be hard and frustrating in order to be fun. (I have a LOT of readers trying to read books FAR too challenging for them, as evidenced today when one student entered the room exclaiming, "Mrs. Swanson, I'm reading Moby Dick!!")
At the end of every Friday we also have a chance for students to reflect on their week in the form of a weekly letter. It is something I did with my seventh graders my first year teaching, and I decided to bring it back this year with my third graders. On fancy and fun paper, students respond to three prompts: One thing I thought went well this week was... One thing I thought didn't go well was... My big goal for next week is... Students will respond to varying levels of depth and thought, and the letters are quite enjoyable to read and respond to over the weekend. The students are always excited to come in the room on Monday morning to find a colorful envelope on their desks.
Last Friday, I was especially touched by one girl's letter. This is a student who has been very kind from the first day of school. When other mope and moan, she smiles and participates. She can be somewhat of a tattle tale if someone isn't shaping up to her standards, but she is a dearheart who invited every student in the classroom to her birthday pool party, and who gives her partner a high five if they have done well. Her mom should be extremely proud of her. It's even more impressive because this little girl has some significant health issues that have meant she has had to be prodded by doctors and has long term effects on her life choices. However, she never complains and never expects special treatment.
Therefore, I was so amazed at reading her letter:
Dear Ms. Swanson,
One thing I thought went well this week was: "thank you for reading Press Hear". Everybody loves the book, even me!
One thing that didn't go well this week was: "I did not have a chance to press, sake, or tip the book and my brother did not give me a gift"
My big goal for next week is: be happy for someone who gets picked for working hard.
Love,
Angie
OK, besides making me feeling TERRIBLE for not picking her (I thought I got everyone!) I think this is the most adorable thing that makes me want to go out and hug the whole world and love everyone just a little bit more. I want to be happy for people who get celebrated, and I swear that if I become more able to be happy for those who are happy, it will be in part because of Angie.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
reason #8: the quotes... seriously, the quotes
OK, nothing too deep today, although there was a moment when one of my students started crying that I almost cried with him, and I remembered again how powerful and challenging it is to teach.
Later, the same child was upset because another child had said something mean about him. The conversation:
Peter: I'm mad cuz he said all sorts of mean stuff about me, stuff I don't even wanna repeat.
Leo: I didn't say nothin about him.
Peter: Yes, you did. You said that my eyes are slanty and that my eyebrows come together and make one eyebrow. And I can't help that! A lot of people have only one eyebrow! I don't think you should make fun of me because of that.
Me: Leo, did you said that Peter only has one eyebrow?
Leo: Yes.
Me: Please apologize.
(apology)
Me: OK, now we either need to handshake, high five, or hug.
(handshake, Leo sits down)
Peter: There's still something between us, cuz nobody gets to talk about my eyebrows like that!
Seriously, how did I not laugh?
Later, the same child was upset because another child had said something mean about him. The conversation:
Peter: I'm mad cuz he said all sorts of mean stuff about me, stuff I don't even wanna repeat.
Leo: I didn't say nothin about him.
Peter: Yes, you did. You said that my eyes are slanty and that my eyebrows come together and make one eyebrow. And I can't help that! A lot of people have only one eyebrow! I don't think you should make fun of me because of that.
Me: Leo, did you said that Peter only has one eyebrow?
Leo: Yes.
Me: Please apologize.
(apology)
Me: OK, now we either need to handshake, high five, or hug.
(handshake, Leo sits down)
Peter: There's still something between us, cuz nobody gets to talk about my eyebrows like that!
Seriously, how did I not laugh?
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