One of my most notable highs this month is being liberated from the dichotomy of "high" versus "low" in terms of the way I view my daily reflections. I have been saying for a while that simplifying the day into these two poles feels artificial and often does not give me space to reflect on some of the most puzzling of events that are neither high nor low but somewhere in between. I also spoke about the mounting pressure of yielding a product at each monthly marker when more often than not, the month ends with no sign of a dazzling synthesizing revelation to demonstrate my growth.
It means a LOT to know the people in your corner really hear you, and I felt abundantly heard when my coach took up my farming metaphor from last month's TIP, and used it to further illuminate the purpose of these monthly reflections. As she explains it, "the monthly due date offers us the equivalent of a farmer walking through the fields every so often. He doesn't walk the field to harvest, but simply to see how the crop is growing, if there are pests to respond to, whether the soil is to wet/dry, and provide additional compost as needed. (Yes, in this analogy, my feedback is compost. Fitting? Lol!)" (Dr. Lynch, Livetext, 2014). For me, having my teacher speak to me with empathy and using my own language was a valuable demonstration and reminder of how I want to work with my own students when they encounter challenges.
This surveying of the fields is something I wish to help my students' cultivate for their own lifelong learning practices. Working towards greater levels of metacognition and reflection from my students shows up throughout the month of March as I ponder reoccurring conflicts and ways to both empower and increase accountability of these quickly growing sprouts. This interest is consistent with my allegiance to Ladybugs, Tornadoes, and Swirling Galaxies. Those authors assert that “Self-assessment is an important part of the inquiry process because it lets us know whether or not the kids are internalizing the process and the meaning of what they have been doing. It is also a path to independence” (Buhrow and Upczak Garcia, 2006, L.2534). I have experienced the veracity of this from both a student and an educator's perspective. I'm also fairly certain that anyone who has read this blog for any amount of time is tired of hearing the word "collaboration," but this is yet another example of how potent it can be for a learner's development, whether that learner is 7 or 27. As Frank Smith says, “students, like teachers, exhibit more responsibility when more is given to them; they take the tasks they are engaged in more seriously and experience far greater satisfaction” (Smith, 1998, p.95). Getting to take ownership of my daily reflection method is my own small experience of this, but a meaningful one for me to pass on to my students so that they, too, can experience a heightened level of engagement and satisfaction from their work.
This is all a very long and drawn out way for me to say, would you like to take a stroll through my fields with me?
To our left, we will see That One Crop that has been the source of many 'low' reflections these past few months. While not ready to harvest, you will see that some true growth has occurred here! On St. Patrick's Day, I was very apprehensive about how the excitement and irregularity of the day would impact the behavior of this student, but was thrilled with the way he managed to work through small conflicts peacefully and without getting locked into Rock Brain mode. I made sure to point these successes out to him, as Bailey recommends that we “Proactively notice all helpful, kind acts children perform. Notice these acts privately to the child and publicly to the class” (Bailey, 2000, p.71). We have worked hard to be consistent about this and I think this child's mounting successful days could be indication that our consistency is paying off. But then again, playing Devil's Advocate as I can never resist doing, I must wonder if it's really the student who has grown or have I gotten better at anticipating his needs? Could I be subconsciously taking more preventative measures resulting in this decrease in outbursts and meltdowns? If so, that's marvelous for me, but I don't want to deny any students formative experiences that can help them build their autonomy and important interpersonal skills. I will definitely be keeping a closer eye on myself to monitor whether I am circumventing behavior triggers with intention or out of fear.
To our right, we'll see a little patch of land that has been ploughed but only half planted. This is the garden of my good intentions, or perhaps my grand ambitions. In reviewing this month's reflections, I found there were many places where I expressed a feeling of impotence in impacting my class the way I envision. I believe this comes from my role as an assistant teacher, where I'm expected to play a supporting role in helping bring about the lead teacher's vision. Having worked with the same partner for 3 years, the growing pains here are acute and awkward, as I am beginning to observe a growing gap between our values and instructional styles where before we had the feeling of being one brain and even used to joke about how the same we were in our thinking. It's not that I think her ways of doing things are wrong... Quite the opposite, as I know from experience that her ways work. Rather, I think I'm beginning to feel more confident in my own abilities, and am craving the space to try out and demonstrate my worth. I absolutely can NOT complain that I have not been given opportunities to apply my ideas and learning, but it's not the same as running the show. I know this is part of being the assistant in the room, but when time is crunched, it’s usually my things that get pushed aside. It's only natural that it would be that way, but it's frustrating nonetheless. I'm really looking forward to a time (maybe next year??) when I am the lead teacher of my own class and I can be the one making choices about what gets tabled and what gets done in a day.
This is why I so look forward to Thursday's Language and Technology with my class, which is a precious, unadulterated 1.5 hours that I don't have to share with anyone. It's in this space that I can really pursue new ideas and methods I'm wanting to try on. It's my little instructional playground, a microcosm of what my own class would be like, where I make the decisions on what and how to teach: some good decisions, some bad, but all valuable practice for my future ambitions. This month, riding on the high of Chinese New Year, I embarked on another large unit differentiated for the varied age groups from Pre-K to Middle. Stemming from their interest in a certain Chinese folktale called The Rooster's Horns, we launched a study of origin folktales and shadow puppetry. The latter portion was student-originated, as the Rooster's Horns book has directions on how to put on a shadow puppet show, and a keen-eyed student noticed and pointed this out to her peers. The enthusiasm meeting the question "Is that something you guys might like to try?" was enough to tell me this was our next unit. In my class' folktale study, we only had so much time to spend on this fascinating genre, but within the freedom of my LT block, I was able to let the students dive in through multiple modalities of learning and really extend and apply their learning. Strickland talks about the many ways to approach texts to deepen reader comprehension and engagement, saying “Along the way teachers can use techniques like mapping, retelling, and graphic organizers, not as exercises, but as ways to help readers think about the text” (Strickland, 2005, p.2). These puppet shows proved to be a student-driven interaction with a text that helped them think about it and really apply the features of folktales in ways that matter to them. Students had plenty of choice, either creating their own origin myths or re-telling a familiar one, working alone or with partners, and turning our classroom into a buzzing workshop of purposeful writers and puppeteers during our time together. It's exactly how I envision a reader's/writer's workshop in my classroom to look someday. As my idols describe it, "This is all natural. The kids are everywhere, spread out with their work, engaged in their thinking, working at their own pace. We move around the room conferring with kids, helping them move from one step to the next" (Buhrow and Upczak Garcia, 2006, L. 1567). Observe the fruits of our labors in the short clip below where one of my 4th graders performs her show for an audience of older and younger students.
And just like that, we are back at the ranch.
I suppose the problem with a farm located only within my mind is that the boundaries of the property are limitless, and we'll never have time to visit everything that grows there. I hope next time we can stroll through the orchard of math instruction, which has just begun to bare fruit for the first time in my teaching life, thanks to my fantastic mathematics instructor and the instructional case studies I conducted for her class. While that last metaphor might be a stretch, it's nothing compared to the stretch required for me to think of myself as a mathematician, and yet here I am! Surprising things can sprout when the soil is right and the gardeners care.
It means a LOT to know the people in your corner really hear you, and I felt abundantly heard when my coach took up my farming metaphor from last month's TIP, and used it to further illuminate the purpose of these monthly reflections. As she explains it, "the monthly due date offers us the equivalent of a farmer walking through the fields every so often. He doesn't walk the field to harvest, but simply to see how the crop is growing, if there are pests to respond to, whether the soil is to wet/dry, and provide additional compost as needed. (Yes, in this analogy, my feedback is compost. Fitting? Lol!)" (Dr. Lynch, Livetext, 2014). For me, having my teacher speak to me with empathy and using my own language was a valuable demonstration and reminder of how I want to work with my own students when they encounter challenges.
This surveying of the fields is something I wish to help my students' cultivate for their own lifelong learning practices. Working towards greater levels of metacognition and reflection from my students shows up throughout the month of March as I ponder reoccurring conflicts and ways to both empower and increase accountability of these quickly growing sprouts. This interest is consistent with my allegiance to Ladybugs, Tornadoes, and Swirling Galaxies. Those authors assert that “Self-assessment is an important part of the inquiry process because it lets us know whether or not the kids are internalizing the process and the meaning of what they have been doing. It is also a path to independence” (Buhrow and Upczak Garcia, 2006, L.2534). I have experienced the veracity of this from both a student and an educator's perspective. I'm also fairly certain that anyone who has read this blog for any amount of time is tired of hearing the word "collaboration," but this is yet another example of how potent it can be for a learner's development, whether that learner is 7 or 27. As Frank Smith says, “students, like teachers, exhibit more responsibility when more is given to them; they take the tasks they are engaged in more seriously and experience far greater satisfaction” (Smith, 1998, p.95). Getting to take ownership of my daily reflection method is my own small experience of this, but a meaningful one for me to pass on to my students so that they, too, can experience a heightened level of engagement and satisfaction from their work.
This is all a very long and drawn out way for me to say, would you like to take a stroll through my fields with me?
To our left, we will see That One Crop that has been the source of many 'low' reflections these past few months. While not ready to harvest, you will see that some true growth has occurred here! On St. Patrick's Day, I was very apprehensive about how the excitement and irregularity of the day would impact the behavior of this student, but was thrilled with the way he managed to work through small conflicts peacefully and without getting locked into Rock Brain mode. I made sure to point these successes out to him, as Bailey recommends that we “Proactively notice all helpful, kind acts children perform. Notice these acts privately to the child and publicly to the class” (Bailey, 2000, p.71). We have worked hard to be consistent about this and I think this child's mounting successful days could be indication that our consistency is paying off. But then again, playing Devil's Advocate as I can never resist doing, I must wonder if it's really the student who has grown or have I gotten better at anticipating his needs? Could I be subconsciously taking more preventative measures resulting in this decrease in outbursts and meltdowns? If so, that's marvelous for me, but I don't want to deny any students formative experiences that can help them build their autonomy and important interpersonal skills. I will definitely be keeping a closer eye on myself to monitor whether I am circumventing behavior triggers with intention or out of fear.
To our right, we'll see a little patch of land that has been ploughed but only half planted. This is the garden of my good intentions, or perhaps my grand ambitions. In reviewing this month's reflections, I found there were many places where I expressed a feeling of impotence in impacting my class the way I envision. I believe this comes from my role as an assistant teacher, where I'm expected to play a supporting role in helping bring about the lead teacher's vision. Having worked with the same partner for 3 years, the growing pains here are acute and awkward, as I am beginning to observe a growing gap between our values and instructional styles where before we had the feeling of being one brain and even used to joke about how the same we were in our thinking. It's not that I think her ways of doing things are wrong... Quite the opposite, as I know from experience that her ways work. Rather, I think I'm beginning to feel more confident in my own abilities, and am craving the space to try out and demonstrate my worth. I absolutely can NOT complain that I have not been given opportunities to apply my ideas and learning, but it's not the same as running the show. I know this is part of being the assistant in the room, but when time is crunched, it’s usually my things that get pushed aside. It's only natural that it would be that way, but it's frustrating nonetheless. I'm really looking forward to a time (maybe next year??) when I am the lead teacher of my own class and I can be the one making choices about what gets tabled and what gets done in a day.
This is why I so look forward to Thursday's Language and Technology with my class, which is a precious, unadulterated 1.5 hours that I don't have to share with anyone. It's in this space that I can really pursue new ideas and methods I'm wanting to try on. It's my little instructional playground, a microcosm of what my own class would be like, where I make the decisions on what and how to teach: some good decisions, some bad, but all valuable practice for my future ambitions. This month, riding on the high of Chinese New Year, I embarked on another large unit differentiated for the varied age groups from Pre-K to Middle. Stemming from their interest in a certain Chinese folktale called The Rooster's Horns, we launched a study of origin folktales and shadow puppetry. The latter portion was student-originated, as the Rooster's Horns book has directions on how to put on a shadow puppet show, and a keen-eyed student noticed and pointed this out to her peers. The enthusiasm meeting the question "Is that something you guys might like to try?" was enough to tell me this was our next unit. In my class' folktale study, we only had so much time to spend on this fascinating genre, but within the freedom of my LT block, I was able to let the students dive in through multiple modalities of learning and really extend and apply their learning. Strickland talks about the many ways to approach texts to deepen reader comprehension and engagement, saying “Along the way teachers can use techniques like mapping, retelling, and graphic organizers, not as exercises, but as ways to help readers think about the text” (Strickland, 2005, p.2). These puppet shows proved to be a student-driven interaction with a text that helped them think about it and really apply the features of folktales in ways that matter to them. Students had plenty of choice, either creating their own origin myths or re-telling a familiar one, working alone or with partners, and turning our classroom into a buzzing workshop of purposeful writers and puppeteers during our time together. It's exactly how I envision a reader's/writer's workshop in my classroom to look someday. As my idols describe it, "This is all natural. The kids are everywhere, spread out with their work, engaged in their thinking, working at their own pace. We move around the room conferring with kids, helping them move from one step to the next" (Buhrow and Upczak Garcia, 2006, L. 1567). Observe the fruits of our labors in the short clip below where one of my 4th graders performs her show for an audience of older and younger students.
I suppose the problem with a farm located only within my mind is that the boundaries of the property are limitless, and we'll never have time to visit everything that grows there. I hope next time we can stroll through the orchard of math instruction, which has just begun to bare fruit for the first time in my teaching life, thanks to my fantastic mathematics instructor and the instructional case studies I conducted for her class. While that last metaphor might be a stretch, it's nothing compared to the stretch required for me to think of myself as a mathematician, and yet here I am! Surprising things can sprout when the soil is right and the gardeners care.