#SOL14 - Portrait of the Self

Yesterday I wrote about a field trip to the Amon Carter Museum, and how two of the experiences there have resonated with me through the years. I failed to share a photograph of the sculpture I referenced yesterday, but it's worth a look:

A Bronc Twister, Charles M. Russell; Amon Carter Museum

The second piece from that field trip that I use often in class is titled Ease, by William Michael Harnett.

Ease, by William Michael Harnett; Amon Carter Museum

Although it may not look it, Ease is a type of self portrait. The subject of this work commissioned the painting to tell a story about his life, without needing to appear in the painting itself. When I was gathered with my young writers at the museum, we stood in front of the painting, making a list of all the objects we could see and brainstorming ideas of what type of life the person owning these objects may have led. They noticed the fine details; some talked about the discoloration in the papers, others were distressed over the lit cigar sitting on top of what appears to be a newspaper. We wondered aloud about the envelope at the center of the portrait, as well as the array of instruments. Afterward, they were given time to write a quick creative story about the person behind the portrait.

I sometimes use this painting with my writers at the beginning of the year or when we're struggling to find ideas for writing. By giving them time to draw, create a collage, or use digital media to create a representation of themselves -- in objects that portray their lives -- each student quickly comes up with a long list of subjects, ideas, memories, and passions that make up the details of his or her life. From there, we're off and running with multiple story ideas. It's a surefire why to kickstart any struggling writer's creativity.

This activity is a favorite of mine for self-reflection, as well. Although I can't pinpoint why this painting resurfaces in my mind over and over again, it has, and each time I find myself thinking about Harnett's work, I take some time to think about what would be found in my own similar portrait. Through the years some things change, of course -- I've traded in stacks of baby diapers for my childrens' college paperwork, for one! But many remain the same: dogeared journals, favorite books, a simple sapphire and diamond ring given to me by my parents on my thirteenth birthday, to name a few.

My newest idea is to take these multiple journal entries from over the years, turn them into poems, add photographs, and create a timeline of my life. As always, I am amazed by how contemplating works of art acts as a catalyst for my creativity as a writer. Ironic, since I know how helpful it is to my students. Perhaps I need to remember that what is good for creativity is always good, no matter the age of the artist.

Week 2: So What Do They Really Know?

Guys! I have to tell you that I love this book. (Okay, if you haven't been following along, I'll tell you -- Cris Tovani's So What Do They Really Know? Assessment That Informs Teaching and Learning)

Go check out Book Journey for more reading awesomeness!

I'm finding a good balance between moments when I think, "Yes! Why haven't I thought of that before? I'm doing that tomorrow!" and "Woot! Tovani and I could be teaching BFF's! I do that all the time!"

Okay, I never promised you a well-structured stuffy book review when I said I wanted to use this for a book study. Suffice it to say, when I'm excited about something, it shows!

Chapter 3
Favorite quote:

Whether learners are struggling, gifted, or in between, they all deserve a year's worth of growth.

I think she may have written this quote just for me. This year I have two classes -- my morning class consists mainly of students that struggle in several areas, receive Special Education services, or are somewhere in the middle of the RTI process. My afternoon class has students that are typically high achieving and/or in the Gifted and Talented program. And of coure I have my kiddos that are sitting right in the middle academically but each have their own set of special gifts and skills.

So. Yeah. I wholeheartedly believe they each deserve every ounce of growth I can help them achieve. I work hard to make sure none of our time or efforts are wasted.

I enjoyed the overview of the workshop model -- I mean, sure, I've seen it before. I believe in its effectiveness. But the truth is, as I get busy with meeting timelines and upcoming tests and the system in which we all must live, I often start to veer off-course. This was a good reminder of why I believe in this mode of instruction: the students do the work! It makes sense that when students are the ones working, they are the ones learning! I need to make sure I give them enough time each day to do the hard work of learning.

The curriculum flow map she shares on page 43 was also helpful to me. Since this is my first year as a departmentalized teacher, I'm really struggling to reign in my schedule and routine! I have less than two hours each day with my guys for reading, writing, and social studies. Although the system she has in place for her high school students won't quite work for me in 4th grade, I do want to try making a special bookshelf or area in the room where I can include supplemental texts for students to read and share in a similar way.

So my first goal is to stay on-track with the time to work that I give my students! I'll report back on how I do this week in my next reflection.

Chapter 4
The first thing that popped out at me in Chapter 4 was the learning targets and assessments table. In my school district, we have to post daily objectives and products. The objective is what we will learn together and the product is how the student will show their learning before they leave class. I like doing this because it keeps us all on track, so it was neat to see it in Tovani's book!

I haven't used the inner voice sheets yet, and honestly, I'm not a big fan of making that many copies. We do have reader's notebooks and my students keep notes about their reading, but I call it our reading palette. Whenever I do a read aloud they keep notes, but it looks a little different from the Figure 4.2 on Annotation in Chapter 4. My class creates a table with 4 boxes. Each box is for a different thing, and sometimes I vary what I have them title the boxes, but normally it looks like this:

•  Questions
• Connections
• Predictions/Thoughts on what is happening
• Word Love (a place to capture words, phrases, sentences that their writing ear appreciates)

Alternatively, I tell my kiddos to sketch pictures with captions of what they see in their mind as I read. So I guess we are doing something similar to her inner voice sheet! I go back and forth on having them do this during their own reading, because I really want them in "the reading zone" (gotta throw out a little Atwell love, of course). I felt better about this after I read about her work with Raymond, who didn't want to stop and write while he read. She struck a compromise with him and he writes a little during the last five minutes of reading time. This way he gets to stay in the zone, and she can still get an idea of where he is as a reader. Great balance!

The other part that jumped out at me in this chapter was about debriefing. I am guilty about cutting out the debriefing when we are running short on time. In the future, I'm making a note to myself to try partner debriefing! In the beginning of the year my students hadn't experienced much time working cooperatively with other students, so we have worked very hard to get to a place where we can have conversations about our learning. I think we are ready to try debriefing this way! We also have a Twitter Wall for exit tickets, but I think I need to be a little more deliberate in what I ask them to write each day before they leave. I like Tovani's idea to have students write one question they still have before leaving. Another idea to try this week!

And here's my favorite quote, although it may not seem very important to anyone else!

The evidence I collect isn't very fancy.

This seven word sentence says so much! My evidence is not fancy -- I have sticky notes, pictures, audio clips, scribbled bits of conversations, conversation calendars, conferring notes saved in Evernote -- just bits and pieces of our days, held digitally and on paper. But this is real. Real kids, real moments, real work, real learning.

It doesn't have to be fancy for it to matter. Just keep it real!

Slice of Life Tuesday

I would love to write a slice today,
but...
There are 37 students taking their first four hour unit test tomorrow. And their second the day after that. And their third the day after that.
So forgive me if my heart is a little too full of concern for these kiddos for me to concentrate on anything else.

There are 19 students in dire need of assistance they just aren't getting, and no matter how far I stretch what I can do in one classroom, I'm just not meeting their needs in the way I would like. So forgive me if my heart is a little too overwhelmed to concentrate on anything else today.

I have visions of NaNoWriMo swirling in my head. Broken bits, like splices of film flip flopping apart through my mind, pieces that want to tell a story that I just can't quite mend.

Because there are 4 students with Autism in my room working far below grade level that desperately need consistent one on one attention to be successful. If I could, I would sit all day with these guys and I know that real learning would happen. As it is, I do the best I can, but it never feels like enough.

I asked for help trying to determine how to do a better job.

I was told it was impossible.

So there it is.
Every day, I go to work to accomplish the impossible.
So forgive me if my words are scattered, my heart is broken for my students, and my mind is swirling Texas-tornado style.

There must be a better way.

So What Do They Really Know?

As I mentioned the other day, I'm up to my eyeballs in reading! I would love some blogger help as I read Cris Tovani's So What Do They Really Know?, and that's where you come in, lovely reader!

I will begin reading on October 14, and post my reflections at the end of each week. The schedule will look something like this:

October 14-20
Read chapters 1-2, post reflectively on reading by October 21

October 21-27
Read chapters 3-4, post reflectively on reading by October 28

October 28-November 3
Read chapters 5-6, post reflectively on reading by November 4

November 4-10
Read chapter 7, post reflectively on reading by November 11

November 11
Google hangout discussion about the book!

If this sounds like something you're interested in, check out this form. I would love to have some friends to bounce ideas off of as we read! I'm thinking anyone participating could respond to my posts in the comments, and if you write your own post, you can leave those in the comments as well, so others can easily find you! I'm also considering a weekly twitterchat to talk about blog posts, but I think I'll know more about that by the time the end of the first week rolls around.

So what do you think, folks? Are you up for it?

Slice of Life Tuesday: A Manifesto Begins

I've learned a lot in the past six weeks, but mostly, I've (re)learned this:

I believe in a reader’s right to choose.

Strike that, I believe in a child’s right to choose.

I believe in a child’s right to be treated like a person, not a statistic. Not a test grade.

Choose how they learn best.

Choose how they represent their learning.

Choose what they want to read.

Choose how they write.

I believe in choice.

The choice to teach in a way that lines up with your beliefs and meets the needs of your students.

I believe in standing firm on your principles.

I believe in change.

I believe when we offer students the opportunity to be great, they amaze us with their excellence.

I believe teaching is about people, not numbers.

I believe we have lost our way.

I believe there is a way back. 

It is the still, quiet voice muffled beneath scores and paperwork and meetings and data.

The still, quiet voice that -- years ago -- urged you to become a teacher in the first place.

I believe that voice has a right to be heard.

And I believe we each have the strength to push that muffled voice from a whisper to a shout -- not just for ourselves; not for the weary eyes, aching feet, boggled brains and burnt out souls of all the teachers across the nation.

No, not only for them -- for me, for you.

I believe that voice has a right to be heard because our children deserve better.

They deserve rooms rich with conversation, laughter that rings through the halls, amazement in the pure joy of learning -- which, let’s be honest -- has been lost beneath the bubble sheets and reading passages and leveled books that bore would-be readers and scientists and Nobel Peace Prize winners at such extreme levels that we have shut down their minds.

I believe our children have the right to be allowed to learn.

I believe change is necessary.

And I believe change is impossible, unless we listen closely.

Listen closely to that still, quiet voice – the one that insists there is a better way.

Because there is. There is a way beyond boxed curriculum sets and test preparation. Beyond extrinsic rewards for minimal expectations. A way beyond what we have let education become.

And if you’ve forgotten your voice, if the demands placed on you have become so stringent that your passion for learning is barely a smoldering ember – put down your clipboard, leave the stacks of papers behind, push open that door and walk outside.

Seek out the playground.

Seek out the children digging in the dirt.

Seek out the boys on the basketball court and the girls doing cheers all lined up in the grassy field. (And yes, seek out the girls playing soccer and the boys reading beneath a tree.)

Seek out the Kindergarteners asking, asking, always asking for more.

Seek out the loner. The angry one. The kids poking bugs with sticks.

Seek out the wisdom in each child, the delight in their faces, the yearning for knowledge.

Fill your lungs with it. Smile, if just for a moment, remembering why you are doing this in the first place.

And let your still, quiet voice rumble and roar.

And be heard.

For you, for your students, for our nation.

Be heard.

Slice of Life: You Matter!

After taking a little no-blogging, no-tweeting break (a girl needs some time to herself after 2 months of back to back daily blogging!), I was beyond thrilled with what I found when I popped back out of my cave today.

Corey Dahl had tweeted a TED video of Angela Maiers that is absolutely inspirational. Don't believe me? Watch for yourself:



I've been following Angela since I found her "Habitudes" through the 2010 Reform Symposium (aka most amazing online professional development experience EVER). She is one of those speakers that just gives me chills because of the bold truth in her words. I hope you'll check out her site and follow her on twitter. I promise you'll be every bit as appreciative of her wisdom as I am.
You Matter.
Brilliant. And do you know even one single person that doesn't want to know that they matter? I certainly don't. In fact, I think most of us walk around wanting to matter to someone, in some way. (Wearing that sign, big or small.)
Maybe this feels especially meaningful right now because -- here we are again, the end of another school year -- stress is high, people are busy, frustration thresholds are low.
We need to know we matter. We need to know our genius is appreciated. And I am so thankful I popped back into the twitosphere today to hear Angela's words -- to remember the precious gift I can give each student, teacher, and parent I see, by simply letting them know I see them. By letting them know they matter. (And my family! They need to hear it, too. They need to know they matter.)
I find much hope in the thought of how significantly changed any workplace can be, when focused on finding the genius in one another instead of singling out the unappreciated differences and problems.
Focused on solutions, not problems.
Focused on what matters.
Focused on building each other up.
Focused on delighting in one another's genius.
It's a happy thought to finish this school year with.
So. What's your genius?

The School That Technology Forgot

Today I heard the news for our district's new technology plan. Hold on to your hats, friends, because this one is hard to believe:

1. All teacher laptops to be removed
2. All campuses currently using Mac computers shall have them removed, to be replaced by rented Dell desktops
3. Grades 5 and up will now be allowed to bring in their own technology into the classroom (BYOT?) -- meaning your home home laptops, iPads, whatnot, are finally going to have access to the district Internets (sorry Grade 4 and under - you're on your own!)

I can't even begin to comprehend the thoughts driving this decision or the effects it will have on the students and teachers.

I've been using Macs in the classroom for the past 5 years. The students love them, they're very user friendly, and we absolutely use the software provided on our classroom desktops.

I use my laptop at meeting, training sessions, and at home to do numerous work related tasks.

I was told today that the reason behind the laptop removal is because "teachers only use their laptops to play around on the internet, and that's not a good enough reason to keep them."

The disrespect towards myself and other professionals from this one statement is quite simply -- as Liz Lemmons would say -- a deal breaker.

How do we prepare students for the jobs of the future when we aren't even equipped to handle the technology of today?

At best, it's embarrassing. At worst, it's damaging to students and teachers alike.

And it is definitely guiding my thoughts on who I am as an educator, and where I choose to invest my time.

It's Monday! What are you reading?

After reading Laura's post over at Camp Read-a-Lot, I decided to postpone my planned post on possibility (whew, say THAT 3 times fast!) and join the fun over at Teach Mentor Texts for their weekly "It's Monday! What are you reading?" meme.

As I've done since reading Donalyn Miller's The Book Whisperer a couple of years ago, I challenged my kids to join me for a #bookaday goal over Spring Break. Some jumped at the chance, while others set a somewhat smaller goal. Today we checked in, and I was super excited to find that most of my kiddos met or exceeded their goals!

Here's what I read:

1. Lemonade by Bob Raczka
2. Wonderstruck by Brian Selznick
3. Ladybug Girl by David Soman
4. Goodnight World by Willa Perlman
5. Stars by Mary Lyn Ray
6. Ruth and the Green Book by Calvin Alexander Ramsey
7. I Can Hear the Sun by Patricia Polacco
8. When I Was Young and in the Mountains by Cynthia Rylant
9. Tulip Sees America by Cynthia Rylant
10. Write Like This by Kelly Gallagher (started, not finished)
11. Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life (started, not finished)

Several of my books were narrative style picture books, since I was amping up to share some great mentor texts with my kids this week. We'll be taking our STAAR writing test next week, so it feels like a good time to munch on some scrumptious words. And I'm just loving Gallagher's Write Like This. His thoughts match my own feelings on what writing should look like in the classroom, and as I was already planning to spend the week revisiting how narrative and expository writing can be written about the same topic but in different ways, much of what I read in his book helped me decide on a new way of presenting the information. Win!

Today I shared Ruth and the Green Book with my students. Before I read the book, we made a list of our purposes for writing, using Gallagher's model. After they had a list of styles such as expressing and reflecting, informing and explaining, and taking a stand and proposing a solution, I passed out sticky notes and asked them to write words and phrases in the story that helped them to determine the author's purpose for writing.

Ruth and the Green Book is an excellent resource as a mentor text! Although the style is narrative, all the students noticed that Ramsey also informs and explains, as we learned many facts about life as an African American in the 1950's and how the Green Book came into existence. Some of my students also felt that the story had elements of the take a stand model as well, since Ruth definitely takes a stand of her own in the story. Wonderful mentor text, and a Bluebonnet choice for 2012-2013, as well! Double win!

After we read, I asked my students to come up with possible prompts for writing that would result in a story like Ruth and the Green Book. They came up with several prompt ideas, including:

• Write about a time you were left out
• A time you felt afraid
• A time someone was mean to you

And more! We made a list and they each chose the one that spoke to them and began writing their own narrative that matched their chosen prompt. An excellent writing day, to say the least.

I'm eager to continue reading Write Like This and start working on my writing plan for next year! It never ceases to amaze me how much a good book can change a life, a day, or even a moment in one person's life. 

Beginning to Wonder

Today I (finally) picked up a copy of Wonder by R.J. Palacio. There's been such a buzz about it online recently that I've been dying to get to a store and dive in. We've talked about it in class; the kids are super eager to read it and compare it to Out of my Mind. Because of all the hubbub surrounding it, I expected greatness. What I did not expect was to be pulled nearly 30 years into my past, sucking back tears within the first few chapters.

I begin each year with my new batch of fourth grade students the same way -- the story of my very own first day of fourth grade.

Beyond any other year in school, it's my most memorable first day. It stands out above the beginning of middle or high school, and is even more vividly stamped in my brain than the first day of school in Soesterberg, The Netherlands. And being in a brand new country was pretty impressive, so I think that speaks loudly about my 4th grade memories.

Fourth grade was a year of new things: new house, new school, new state (we had just moved from Florida to Nevada); oh yeah, and one other thing -- new face.

Perhaps I left that detail out. On our family road trip that lead us to my dad's new assignment at Nellis Air Force Base, we were in the type of wreck that leaves your car flipped over on the side of the highway, resembling a small burnt-up toaster.

Fortunately, we all lived through it.
Unfortunately, half my face tried to fall off in the process.

So I began my new school as a pale, sickly, stitched up, bald spotted (head injuries are the worst, man), fraidy cat with dark circles under my eyes. I was pretty much a fourth grade zombie. That might be a point in my favor today, but back then zombies weren't exactly in.

This is the image in my head on each first day of school with my own students: staring through the window on the classroom door; one hand poised to grab the doorknob and walk in, one foot ready to tear through the school and run all the way home.

I actually love sharing this story with my students, because I think it tells them a few things about me --

1. I know what it feels like to be different.
2. My first goal every year is to make sure everyone feels safe socially and emotionally. All that other crazy academic stuff will fall into place after that.
3. I'm real.

They always respond the same way -- shocked that other kids were so mean to me, amazed that I look "normal" now, and ready to share their own scary school stories. It's a great way to start -- we get all the first day of school anxiety off our chest and happily move on.

It's an important story to share, and I'm glad there are authors like Sharon Draper and R.J. Palacio willing to write it all down.  I've tinkered with my own kid-sized Frankenstein story through the years, told in various ways, wondering if it's a story worth finishing.

And I think the first few chapters of Wonder have given me my answer.

Read Across America: A Seussified Day!

Today I sat back and watched my class fall into reading all over again.

We read the new pop-up version of The Lorax.

They loved it!

We watched the old version of the cartoon....

Many happy children!

We shared our favorite Dr. Seuss books to our First Grade buddies...

Then we drew our favorite part of the books and helped our buddies write their thoughts...

And everyone had a great time working together!

Suddenly it was time to go home, so we packed up our books, gave out some hugs and high fives, and promised to read through the weekend.

All in all, not a bad Friday.

And on Monday? On Monday, I get to tell my kids that they'll be skyping with author Navjot Kaur for FORTY-FIVE MINUTES on Wednesday!!  I am super hyped and I know they will be too!! I am so glad we got involved for World Read Aloud Day -- can't wait to share this special time with them.

Whatta Week!

I'd like to begin this post with a song that's stuck in my head.


"What a week, what a week, what a week, what a mighty good week!"

A big thanks to my 1990's Salt-n-Pepa love for giving me the ability to translate Whatta Man into Whatta Week, because honestly, wow -- what a week this has been!

On Sunday, I finally managed to be online during Donalyn Miller's monthly #titletalk. So many great ideas flew past on my screen that I'm still pretty sure that I didn't catch them all -- but the small bit I managed to soak up definitely made a big impact on me. I returned to class on Monday ready to share my renewed reading energy with my students.

First thing Monday morning we gathered around with our current books and talked them up. After that, everyone wrote their reading goal for the week on an index card and we posted them to a bulletin board. I previewed the book One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia, explaining why I was so interested to get started with it.

And with that, we went on our merry way, diving into a week full of reading goals, writing bootcamp (more to come on that later!), working on World Party projects, and a Read Across America celebration. With so many things going on, I was a little worried that we would be able to keep up with our reading goals this week!

Today I decided to do a mini-check in, just to give everyone a little push in case they were falling behind. I had finished One Crazy Summer last night, and was excited to share a few lines with them. There are many great mentor text possibilities in this book!

After they all oohed and aahed at the words I shared with them, I asked how they were doing, giving everyone a chance to speak up.

Guys! 19 of 21 students had already met their goal, and the rest were on track to be there by tomorrow! I am so pleased with their energy and passion for reading, and can't wait to spend tomorrow celebrating Read Across America with them.

Here's the plan:

1. Read the new pop-up The Lorax book to two of our 4th grade classes
2. Watch the old cartoon
3. Create a Venn diagram comparing the two, and do a smidge of writing!
4. All the kids are bringing their favorite Dr. Seuss books to class and we will go to our 1st Grade buddy class to read to them

Tomorrow I will take many pictures and share how it goes! For now, check out the fun trailer for the new book:

A Teachable Moment?

Last Thursday began like any other day. Except it didn't. Not at all.

At approximately 7:45 in the morning, I opened my eyes, grabbed my phone and nearly threw it across the room. 7:45? How could this be possible? My students start filing into the classroom at precisely 7:35 every morning!

And here it was, 7:45, with me still in bed. Instantly, I felt sick. By the time I was running for the bathroom to start throwing myself together, my phone was ringing.



A coworker wondering the same thing I was, "What on earth is going on?"

I eventually made it to school, still shaking from anxiety and adrenaline. My entire body throbbed with the dread of facing my students. What could I possibly say to them?

"Sorry guys, I was asleep while you were sitting here wondering where I was."

After taking a minute to calm my frazzled nerves, I called my coworker's room and had her send my class to me.

I took a sip of coffee and stood at the door, waiting. It was only a few minutes before I heard them bubbling up the steps and headed toward me.

Show time!

With a winning smile I greeted them, gave out hugs and high-fives, and told them to grab their writing journals and meet me on the rug. I politely smiled through all the questions about where I had been.

Once we made it to the floor with journals and pencils in hand, I sat down and asked the question burning in everyone's mind -- "So, let's hear it. What could have possibly kept me from being here with you this morning?"

The answers started out simple: I forgot it was a school day, I had a flat tire, I got caught up reading and forgot the time.

"Oh c'mon," I laughed, "No aliens? No mystery? What a boring morning I must have had. Certainly something crazy must have happened to keep me away from you."

I saw the lightbulbs go on above their little heads.

"A fire! Your house caught on fire and you had to save your dog!"
"Someone padlocked you into your house!"
"Aliens captured your family and you had to save them!"

And on and on and on we went... until I stood up, went to the board, and wrote this:

I told them they had 10 minutes to write anything they wanted to explain my tardiness, and suggested this would be a fabulous time to go nuts with figurative language. With that, I turned our music on, started a timer, and began to pace the room.

At the halfway mark, I heard groans -- they had too much to write and not enough time!

When the timer went off, I had to practically pull still scribbling students from their seats.  But it was time to share, and everyone wanted in on the action.

We laughed our way through the next 21 explanations for my late morning, our personal favorite including my untimely parachuting into a warzone and abysmal attempt at shooting my way out of the chaos (I shot at everything I saw, but missed every shot!). In one story my car broke down, so I rode a turtle to school. In another, I found a secret portal in my closet and sped away to a new world. In still another, I was a part of a high speed chase!

By the time we finished reading, we had to head out the door for P.E. and the poor kids never did find out the real story of my out of sync morning. But I have to say -- their versions were much more exciting! And an excellent opportunity to play with figurative language and revision.

Thankfully, my epic teacher fail was saved by their imagination and fantastic writing skills -- a teachable moment, after all.

A Clear Mind

As a follow up to the lesson we did in class Monday, today I talked to my students about having a clear mind. I'd love to take credit for this fabulous visual representation of what happens in our mind when we get all jumbly-bumbly from the stresses around us, but all props must go to Susan Kaiser Greenland, author of The Mindful Child and the Inner Kids program, which teaches mindfulness through games and activities.  Check it out!
But in the meantime, here's Susan using a jar of water and baking soda to show kids how breath awareness can help us calm our minds when life gets crazy.

I did the same activity with my class today, which was especially fitting as we had a science test that they were a little worried about. Before adding the baking soda to the water we talked about how we feel when we are calm, taking time to notice where we feel "calmness" in our body. We also talked about what it feels like when things around us start to bug us. I brought up our hula hoop experience, so we were able to add in a discussion about how it feels when people get in our personal space or when we allow others to start making choices for us. My students impressed me with their ability to define how and where they feel their frustrations -- in their chest, their stomachs, their head, and one student even said in his fist! As we talked about that, I added in baking soda and had them call out all the things that bother them -- the room got louder and louder as the water turned into a thick white cloud.
And then I asked them to take a moment and just breathe. I told them that when I need to get control of myself, I sometimes image that there is a string attached to my head that is pulling my body straight and tall, and then I take a nice, long deep breathe. So we all did that together. One of my kids quietly commented that the water was beginning to clear up.
We talked about how nice it is to have a way to let the frustrations that come into our mind sink away and focus on ourselves instead.
Throughout the day they brought up the jar, which I left sitting on my desk all day. They also wrote about their experience and how they thought they could use picturing the jar in their mind along with taking three deep breaths to help destress. At the end of the day, a few of my students even said they used this technique during our test and were looking forward to trying it at home when their brothers or sisters started bugging them!
Here's one example of their writing today:

I'm excited to check in with them tomorrow to see how it went!

A Mindful Hula Hoop

Last week I spent three days in San Francisco at the 31st Learning and the Brain Conference. I had the privilege of listening to powerful presentations from Dr. Dan Siegel, Susan Kaiser Greenland, and Michael Posner, among several other researchers and authors in the field of neuroscience and education . A common theme throughout the conference centered on attention, self control, and mindfulness. In fact, I had the good fortune to be there at the same time that Jon Kabat-Zinn was speaking at a benefit for Mindful Schools, and enjoyed an evening at Berkeley gleaning a stronger understanding of the need for mindfulness education in our schools.

Seventeen hours packed full of statistics, graphs, anecdotes, research, and practical application is a lot to try to synthesize back into one cohesive framework to take back to the classroom, so last night I was tossing and turning while visions of attentive, well-rounded children danced in my head. I came up with a couple ideas on how to use simple methods to begin teaching my class the benefit of executive function and mindfulness.

First, a quick definition: executive function sounds super fancy, but it is really a simple concept -- think about a game of Simon Says. When playing Simon Says, a child must suppress the urge to perform the action they hear when the speaker leaves out the trigger words "Simon says..." Executive function is all about impulse control, attentiveness, and self-regulation. Mindfulness in a school setting is used to help students learn to focus attention and concentration, build their social-emotional skills, and reduce stress.

My class this year has struggled with self-control, social cues, and boundaries. I wanted desperately to find a way to use all these new tools to help my kiddos learn to bring some balance to their life.

And suddenly, it came to me.

Hula Hoops.

This morning I gave each student in my class a hula hoop. We held our hoops around our bodies and I instructed each of them to drop their hoops. I asked them if they had enough space to sit, stand, hop, do jumping jacks, and numerous other stunts. Laughing, they all agreed they had plenty of room to do just about everything they needed to do, and could still talk to each other without difficulty.

We held our hoops again and held them up above our heads. I told them to look up through the hoop at the sky and imagine that the space around their hoop extended all the way up to the clouds and beyond. This was their space. This was the area that they could control. I asked them if it was possible for them to control anyone else's hoops while they were focused on holding up their own. They decided quickly that they could only focus on their hoop. I demonstrated walking around them without touching their hoops, without overlapping or bumping into anyone and asked if they thought it would be easy or difficult. Naturally, they all replied that it would be easy. So I gave them a few minutes to jump, run, skip, and hop around each other -- but the one rule was that their hoop needed to touch only their hands and not run into anyone else's space. Afterward, we regrouped and they reported back it was as simple as they thought it would be.

Next, I asked them to form a big circle around me with their hoops. Immediately they began telling each other what to do. A loud chorus of, "Hey, you need to move! No, go there!" and many other comments were exchanged. A completely ill-formed shape spread out around me, resembling something more akin to the blob than a circle. I reminded them that they had all agreed earlier that they could only control their own hoops, so to form the circle they needed to focus on just their hoop and let everyone else do the same. Very quickly an almost perfect circle had surrounded me.

"Wow!" I practically shouted, "That was fast! Why do you think it worked so well?"

Everyone was bubbling with answers about how much easier it was to work together when they focused on what they needed to do, rather than telling other people how to do the job. 

So of course, I walked around the circle and removed every other hoop. I asked each hoopless child to step into a hoop with another person. I asked them to do everything they had done before -- still not touching the person next to them. They tried to sit, stand, hop, and even do jumping jacks. They were not happy. I asked them to pick up their shared hoop and walk, run, skip, and hop around the playground. This resulted in at least one group tumbling to the ground and a few arguments. I asked them to come back to make a new, smaller circle. This almost never happened.

I asked what happened. Why did they seem to have so many problems this time?

Unanimously they decided it was much easier to take care of their own needs when they were in complete control of their own space.

We put the hula hoops away, went back to class and talked for a few minutes about what we noticed, and then I asked them to write without stopping for ten minutes about their experience with the hoops, what they thought it meant about self-control, and how they could keep the hula hoop image in their mind to help them think about coming back to their own space and making thoughtful choices.

I was amazed at their insight, the lessons they learned that I hadn't even anticipated, and the way it changed their mindset for the rest of the day.

This is just the first step, the introduction, the tiniest spark to get them rolling in a direction that I hope will serve to set them on a course of mindful awareness that will last their lifetime.

And all it took was a hula hoop.

Not bad for a Monday.

new test, no fear

This year I keep hearing the same things over again:
Standards have changed!
The new STAAR test is more rigorous!
Writing must happen across the curriculum!
There's no time for the fluff writing that used to happen!
FEAR! BLAME! GUILT! WORRY!

Uh, okay... so my 4th grade students have the unique experience of being the first to take this new, highly rigorous writing assessment at the end of the year.

So they are expected to write two short pieces instead of one longer piece.

And one of these compositions will be an expository piece.

Oh, and don't forget the stamp across every thing we're told this year, "No. Fantasy. Writing. At. All. Period. No. Matter. What."

At district meetings, there is nail biting and fretting and eyes filled with horror.

At faculty meetings we look at graphs and bullet points and pie charts on the importance of rigor and excellence and content area writing.

And at each meeting, I grit my teeth and swallow down the words I want to say. No, let's amend that. I swallow down the words I want to scream:

Who cares?!

I mean, in all seriousness, why should this test alter what we've already been doing? My students write what they want, how they want, and whenever they want. Along the way I offer them learning experiences that hone their skills and broaden their craft.

The point is, if you lead your students to love learning, it doesn't matter what tests get thrown at them. A master learner has no reason to fear being asked to show what they know. We're delighted to share our knowledge.

We have already been writing expository pieces, to explain our learning across the curriculum, persuasive pieces, letters, poems, narratives, and God forbid, the poor stepchild of the 2011 writing year, fantasy. When they have free time, they'd rather write than read or even draw. When I offer writing opportunities outside of school, many of them jump at the chance to participate.

If we are already doing what is best for students, the introduction of a new rigorous state test is not a reason to freak out and board the windows against the demons of free thought.

Let the STAAR come, I say, and we'll show it what we're made of.