Climbing Stairs

I set very high expectations for my students and try to model it by setting high expectations for myself, working hard, and verbalizing how it feels when I am reaching my personal goals. I teach to the top of the class, fill in gaps and add support as needed, yet still find myself disappointed when my students don't show what they know at those magical moments of testing.  Kids always amaze me, though.  After almost twenty- five years in education, I am still surprised by some as they go through school, graduate, and begin college/careers (or not). Overachievers. The Cheerleaders. Underdogs. Late Bloomers. Invisible Climbers. Slow but Surelies. The Easily Frustrated... You know them and the characteristics. We often wonder who they really are going to be when it will really matter someday.

I think part of that "when it really matters" has to do with work ethic.  It's something I try to teach, but it is hard to do. I would predict most teachers would say that it starts at home and then you just set high expectations in the classroom.  That's not really teaching it, though. That's expecting it. The following story is an example of an opportunity I was able to have with my class last spring. I hoped to teach what having a strong work ethic looks like and feels like and build associated vocabulary at the same time...


I ran across this video last year while looking for something else.  I ended up sharing it with my second grade students and it led to the best conversation and writing I had from them all year.  Take a look:

Ducklings -vs- Stairs
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JHy6bBKu0j4

We ended up having to watch it multiple times to truly understand, but these were some of my observations and comments heard:

As the video started, most students were feeling very sorry for them, yet cheering them on.  When the man speaks of helping, and the lady's voice says no, many initially thought she should have.  They needed her help.  They were worried the mother would leave them behind and cheered at the end when she didn't and the last one finally made it to the top.

At that point we stopped to discuss further.
Why didn't she want the man to help?  What would have happened if the little ducklings would have never made it up the stairs?  Or if only one hadn't have made it? Why did the mother even go that way in the first place? Do animals do this on purpose?  What was she "saying" to her ducklings?

We watched it again, stopped and commented along the way. They started getting it.  They saw my purpose.


How are we like those duckling? What would happen if someone helped us with every "step" in life every single time?  What couldn't we learn to do on our own?  Is struggling good for us?  When is struggling good and when is struggling bad?  Is it the same for everyone?  What does good struggling look like in a class room?  How can we be good at  encouraging like the mother duck?  How could we be harmful to our classmates (like the man wanted to be?)

We made a word cloud, used a thesaurus and started finding the association of words like difficult, hard-working, perseverance, grit, rigor, stick-to-itive-ness, stamina, diligence, dedication, commitment, endurance, goal, and success.  Wow. Those sure are fun words to talk about, use in their response writing that day and then continue to hear used in classroom conversations.

We kept that word cloud up for nearly the remainder of the year. They liked recognizing and using those words when they knew they were being diligent or showing endurance.  Honestly, some days I think I am the only one on the top step and I'm just a quacking away cheering my best to keep them going. A few make it and others give up. Other days more get to the top and help me out by encourage others.

And then there are the Great Days. The Great Moments. When one of my Slow-But-Surelies reaches the top finally, and says, "Mrs. Price, that was hard. Hard is fun. And that feels good!"

Processing My Powerlessness

I was reminded this week, more than once, how very powerless we all really are.  For many like me, the feeling of being out of control is something I have battled internally for years.  We sometimes vow, to  never again feel such chaos or vulnerability again.  And we fight the feeling when it tries to seep through our protective walls.

I think of  my students and those I've had...  Ages 7, 8, and 9. They are the age when innocence decreases and eyes widen to the  realness of the world around them.  Some recognize the dysfunction.  Others see it as the norm.
I believe children are the most dependent in our society.  They have very little ability to make significant decisions that can change their comfort level, safety, and fulfillment level at this point.  They must trust others, the ones in charge, to make the decisions that will meet their needs.  What they know and do, is cry out, in words or actions,  until someone responds to what they need the most.

Sometimes it  takes a while.

Sometimes they get louder.

Sometimes it gets messier before better and they get cared for.

And often the process is daily.

Jesus said we are to become like little children.  We, too, are to admit we are in need of something more. We, too, should cry out, admitting our powerlessness and internal chaos so Jesus can take us "in his arms, place His hands on their (our) heads, and be blessed."

Perhaps remembering this will make me a better, more understanding teacher.  But more importantly, perhaps remember this, will help keep me better connected to the One who awaits  my childlike trust in Him.

Advice for New Teachers-From the "Experts"

We have had a wonderful college student with us this spring.  We've enjoyed her great smile, encouraging words, and youthful energy.  The kids faces lit up when they saw her each Thursday.  She shared some fun lessons and games.  I have no doubt she will be awesome when she completes her education and has a class of her own. Her future school and students will be blessed!

We had a little party for her on her last day. We had snacks and gave her a book we made ourselves.  It was cute...Advice For New Teachers.  Before we had it bound, we made it into a video for her as well.  Their "expert advice" was great!

Here is the link:
http://animoto.com/play/0uzqaTIA186mwfSW18t41w

I Needed To Know They Had Permission To Do All The Things They Aren't Supposed To Do

My daughter is now a freshman in college, but I clearly remember the first time I allowed her to ride her bike around the block without me.  She had begged. She was quite responsible. She was a very confident rider. After a couple of years of making the trip with her, I knew it would only take about seven minutes. She'd be out of my view from the porch for less than five. As she rode away, I know I prayed as if she was on a solo flight across the ocean.

It hasn't gotten much easier.  It wasn't easier with my son a few years later. We all know a lot can happen in five minutes.  This week, too much did.

On Monday, a bomb threat prank made my school evacuate our buildings. As we relocated to a nearby building and then bused to a church, my phone beeped with an Amber Alert from a town only an hour down the highway.  Knowing my students were safe and our parents were informed, my heart fell knowing another district was dealing with something much worse... a student taken on their way to school. Two other teenagers associated with Facebook friends went missing over the next twenty-four hours.  Praise God, all three of those kids were rescued and returned safely.

Tuesday was different for Hailey Owens.  She was a ten year old child from Springfield, only an hour away from our school, that didn't make it home safely. She was taken by a man and killed.  It was awful. Horrific. And senseless.  I block images that try to enter my mind. The pain the family feels is impossible for most to understand.  

The accused man, Craig Michael Wood, is a teacher's aide and coach for the Springfield Missouri Public School. He was my nephew's 7th grade football coach about 6 years ago.  My sister was obviously surprised.  She said her son couldn't believe it either when she told him. "How can a monster like that hide in our own schools?  How was it not possible for me or anyone else to not see the evil when talking to him?  How can that hide?"

My students didn't seem to know about the incident on Wednesday, but on Thursday, they all did. Towards the end of the day we circled up to chat. I didn't allow big details of the situation to be discussed, but it was obvious that most of my seven and eight year olds knew almost as much as I did. 

We focused on feelings. How did they feel? How did they think the family, friends, and classmates of Hailey feel?  Once again, without scenarios, we discussed the "yucky" awareness that sometimes is felt around certain people. They may not have done anything wrong to you, but you know how uncomfortable you feel.  It may be someone your parents hang out with, someone with your family, church, club, or even at school. But when you sense that awkward feeling inside, that is when you tell someone you can trust. 

We discussed safety practices for walking home from school or a friend's house. Call first. Stay in groups or pairs. Stay alert. "Stranger Danger" situations and other risks .... And then, honestly for my first time as a classroom teacher, I found myself saying things I've only said to my own children. I have always left it up to the counselors or parents to tell the kids the "get away" stuff.  But Friday, as we sat and talked, I needed to know that my students heard it clearly from someone.  I needed to know they had permission to run, scream, kick, poke, hit, scratch, bite, and do anything they could to get away. 

Someone said something to the effect..."So we can do all the things you tell us not to do on the playground."

I said, "Yes, exactly!" 

We giggled a bit. I told them they could always tell me anything. It was followed by a few more wise cracks that lightened the tone enough we could end the day still smiling.

I pray the talk wasn't necessary.  I pray they aren't ever in a situation that makes them feel "yucky" or the need to run.  I just needed to know they had permission to do all the things they aren't supposed to do.

Hailey  Owens 

  

It Was Just "Ordinary"...And That's Wonderful!

Change.

There's been a lot in my life recently. I expect there to be more in the upcoming months.

In the past six weeks I have moved my daughter to a different city, first apartment, and new college, had a health scare in my family, changed classrooms to allow a growing class enjoy our large classroom, and have had my two teenage nephews move in with my family. There were a few moments a bit more dramatic that this description, but I'll spare you. But whew. It's been quite a month.

Things are settling down.  Not to what it was, but to a new kind of normal.

When things were at their craziest, with my home filled with boxes (some incoming, some outgoing, some just going to storage), evening filled with phone calls to figure futures out, and a few rushed appointments. I truly saw and felt what I think our students feel when chaos surrounds them at home.

School was ordinary. And ordinary was wonderful!

For those few weeks, "ordinary" meant safe, natural, familiar, settled, and predictable.

It had nothing to do with the lessons I was still preparing, the seasonal and themed projects I was still doing, or even the interruptions that were still happening.  Instead, school was the one place that I could see a system of organization that made it safe for me to continue to truly be me and forget my worries.  At school, I had the freedom to breathe deeply. I found more hugs. More smiles. And I could giggle.

*Sigh*

I never thought "ordinary" would be a word I'd want anyone to use to describe my teaching, classroom, or school. But if it is, I hope it's because they found comfort in it as I did.

Who's Telling Your Story?

"If you aren't telling your story, someone else is."

I'm not sure who said it first, but I love this quote. It reminds me the importance of PR in the school and from my classroom. It is so hard to not take things personally and be hurt when a parent says something rotten about your school via social media. As the professional teacher, we most often can't say anything and must wait for it to blow over. Throughout the wait, we think, "If you only knew all of the great things that were going on at school every single day!..."

Well, that's our fault.  That's been my fault. And I'm ready to do more to tell our story.

Parents want more than just a Friday newsletter with the lunch menu and upcoming events now.  Today's young parents are used to having contact or almost 100% access with their kids since birth and then sharing everything they could possibly celebrate through social media. They don't remember a time without cell phones.  They sometimes hit Facebook more than ten times each day.  They tweet and Instagram while standing in the checkout line of the grocery store.  Then, they drop their kiddos off at school, and the alienation begins.

Until recently, I've felt pretty good about myself with class wide communication.  I have two teenagers that have kept me fairly up to date so I'm not the last one to know or try something out.  I maintain a class website with updated information, photos, videos, projects, etc of my students. There are links for my students to use during free choice computer time at school or at their home.  I've used Remind 101 for messaging. I have sent pictures or videos of individual students to parents via text, email, or Drive.  But when it comes to sharing what my students are really doing, studying, questioning, and celebrating in our classroom,  I barely mention it in my Friday newsletter.

Those newsletters used to be precious. I know the parents expected them, took them from their binders, and had them on their refrigerator before bedtime on Friday night. Over the past couple years I found more and more still in the backpacks on Monday morning, Tuesday morning, Wednesday mor..... Yeah, they didn't seem so valued.  I finally got smart and had students just keep them in their binders in see through plastic sleeves for the week, so at least they would know where they are.

According to what I read, sixty percent of adults in America have smart phones. Some studies suggest 96% have access to social media sites, whether it is at home, on a phone, or somewhere else.  Yet, less than half of the schools use anything on-line beyond a school website to promote their school and students. We are missing a great opportunity to show off our kids.  Their kids! And tell some great stories!

I live in a very rural district. Our free/reduced lunch rate is 93%. I teach second grade. You'd think my young students wouldn't be too savvy about smart phones and social media. Think again!

We wrote this wonderful story as a class last Christmas that proves otherwise.

The Year Santa Lost His Smart Phone

   One Christmas Eve, Santa was loading his toys into his sleigh.  He had his smart phone clipped to his black belt.  As Santa sat down, the phone fell into his sack of toys.

   He called the names of his reindeer as he took off to deliver his presents. Suddenly, Santa realized his smart phone was missing.  He checked his belt.  It was not there

   He asked Dasher, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

  “No,” said Dasher.

  “How will I play my games tonight?” asked Santa.

   He asked Dancer, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

  “No,” said Dancer.

  “How will I find the children’s homes without my GPS?” asked Santa.

   He asked Prancer, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

   “No,” said Prancer.

   “How can I call Mrs. Claus and tell her where I am?” asked Santa.

    He asked Vixen, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

   “No, said Vixen.

   “How can I listen to Christmas music, like Jingle Bells tonight?” asked Santa.

   He asked Comet, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

  “No,” said Comet.

  “How can I text the elves and tell them it is okay to rest?” asked Santa.

   He asked Cupid, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

  “No,” said Cupid.

  “How will I know who is on my Naughty and Nice List?” asked Santa.

   He asked Donner, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

  “No,” said Donner.

  “How will I check the weather?” asked Santa.

  

   He asked Blitzen, “Have you seen my smart phone?”

   “No,” said Blitzen.

   “How will I take pictures of all the reindeer and all the places we visit tonight?”

   Santa felt sad.  He did not know where his smart phone was and he did not know what to do.

   Finally, he asked Rudolph,

“Rudolph, with your nose so bright,  Won’t you find my smart phone tonight?”

   Rudolph turned around so Santa could see the sack in the dark. Rudolph’s nose glowed like a flash light.  Inside the bag, behind a Jack in the Box, next to an orange bike and other toys was Santa’s smart phone!

   Santa took his phone out of his toy sack.  “Thank you, Rudolph for using your nose!  You saved Christmas!”

    Santa got on Facebook and posted:

    “Ho! Ho! Ho! Rudolph found my smart phone!  Merry Christmas!”

 I've finally created a class Twitter account.  I look forward to sharing the news with my students when we return to class after break.  We will be excited to share "stories" with our families and other classrooms as we connect.

Who's telling your story?

Majority Doesn't Necessarily Rule

We have consensus groups in my classroom. I love them. More today than ever....

1) Students do a short review assignment on their own. No help from me or classmates. 
2) Next, I form groups of two or three. They must reach consensus on answers. I witness lots of automatic peer teaching, communication, and critical thinking. 
3) We summarize and orally evaluate how we did as groups and with the assignment. 

Today we had an interesting second grade situation where one group of three all had wrong answers to begin with, but after discussion reached consensus with the correct answer.  I loved it! 

But then something even more amazing happened.... One group shared how their group of three had two people with the wrong answer and one with the right answer at first, but all ended up with the correct answer. They took the time to listen even though in "seven year old world" majority rules. 

I was in awe at the conclusion that came from our discussion...something much more important than math... "Just because more people think it's right, doesn't mean it is. Sometimes people just need to listen."