First Grade

My kids are 6 and 7.

My kids work really hard to hear all the sounds in c-a-t. They work hard to rhyme cat with mat and not map. even though /t/ sounds a lot like /p/ when you’re just learning the language.

My kids like climbing on the stairs to gym or art or lunch like they are mountain lions. their hands reach far above them and their bodies slide all the way up. sometimes they’re like frogs jumping down 2 or 3 stairs. I always hope they don’t fall.

My kids moving their bodies makes stillness seem like a threat to their existence. they like stretching their uniform shirts…hiding their arms inside their shirts and pulling it over their knees. My kids cover their mouths when they talk. Do they not know that their words are magic? My kids tap pencils when I talk to them about their stories. My kids lean back in their chairs. I always hope they don’t fall. Sometimes they get really close to tipping. My kids wiggle, consistently. I think if there was a track in the classroom, they would run laps.

My kids count. They are learning that 100 is a big number and that means they can use 100 snap cubes to make a tower (well, after they count one by one to 100). Making towers are way cooler than writing 10+10=20. And they are just figuring out that 5=2+3 is the same as 2+3=5. How can just a simple equal sign and its placement be full of so many opportunities for learning?

My kids read. One kid learned the word “snowman” yesterday. She read the word once. Then she said, “Wait” as I walked away and read me it again. and again. Her face lit up. Today she found a book with snowman in the title.

My kids like reciting the poems in the morning. They learn to memorize them so quickly. They say them so loudly. I wonder why they feel the urge to scream some of the lines.

My kids like holding my hand, resting their heads in my lap, giving me hugs.

My kids make me laugh, tears fall down my face. Sometimes they don’t know why they make me laugh. They stare at me for a second and then they just start laughing.

My kids like telling us their birthdays. It doesn’t matter if it’s in December or May. They already have plans for what they’ll do on their birthday.

My kids want to be caught doing the right thing. Like when they’re helping a classmate and they look up to find a teacher. Their eyes saying, “Look! I’m being good.” 

Theory & Practice

I came into education, not only because schools were the places where I thrived and at many times felt at home, but also because I believe education can and must work for more students (more than just the Emmas). I came into my student teaching experience with the theories and values of the type of teacher I want to be and the type of classroom I want to build. I leave this experience recognizing the intense tension between theory, ideals and practice. It is really hard to be the teacher I want to be. And it is also possible to find ways to be that type of teacher.

Here are some of my top learning moments—experiences where I “messed up” and either had the opportunity to try again or plan to do differently next time.

1. Students need a purpose for everything they are asked to do. If it’s handwriting, why is it important to write legibly? If it’s writing a book summary, why should we know how to talk about the books we read? If it’s developing automaticity in math, why is that an important skill? When students are told “why”, their dedication and effort increases exponentially. When I had students turn and talk to their partners, I started asking them to share what their partner said. They suddenly had a reason to listen and they knew what to listen for. [It also encourages the teacher to make the lesson/activity purposeful and thus meaningful for the students.]

2. Differentiating is vital, necessary, and should be done without excuses or complaints. That being said it is challenging to differentiate well. How do I differentiate so that all children are involved in thoughtful, engaging work—not just those at- or above- grade level. If there is a culture of equity (instead of equality) in my classroom, students respect each other’s needs, accommodations, and know how to celebrate the accomplishments of their peers. This is fundamental to create a classroom community.

3. Be surprised and then don’t be too surprised. I got caught up in being so proud of some kids when they finally just did the work that I put aside the expectation that the work should be done legibly or that they could actually write more and more thoughtfully. I am still not sure how to participate in this dance—how to praise, celebrate and still push kids because I know they can do more.

4. Give structure, model expectations then let kids dance, make them laugh, and challenge them to be creative. In the early graders there is an inherent tension between respecting the youngness, imagination, curiosity, and immense energy they bring into schools and teaching them independence skills and needing to explicitly “teach” them particular skills/knowledge. I saw the power of a simple energizer in the middle of the day to refocus the kids. The routines the classroom had were SO important for kids who needed to have a predictable day. Making kids laugh, showing them that I could be silly too, was an essential way I was able to build relationships with them. Modeling what a summary should look like or giving examples of more descriptive language kids can use in their writing gives them a foundation to be creative—and it’s okay if the first parts of their sentences all sound very similar.

5. Addressing behavior in the classroom is extremely challenging and at times very draining. I found out quickly how important it is to be consistent and firm when dealing with students who have particular behavioral challenges. I also need to be okay admitting to students that I’ll make mistakes when it comes to quick discipline decisions but we’ll work together to fix them up. I want to make the classroom work for each child so I look at root causes and underlying problems when trying to figure out what will be the best solution to a problem. There are many general accommodations that can be made in a classroom and that are essential because every child is different. General accommodations should be made so that children can feel successful throughout the day (not just in one particular subject area). I often need to ask myself, “What is the big idea” or “what is it that they need to learn here.” If a kid loses focus when it comes to handwriting or if reading comprehension is particularly challenging, what do I need to do so that they are still able to practice their math skills without being overwhelmed by the story problem or the need for a long written math description? While creating universal community/classroom expectations are important, raising a classroom of respectful, considerate, thoughtful, and honest kids is more challenging, but ultimately very rewarding.

6. Kids can handle tough stuff, but it’s going to look and sound a lot different than how I talk about it. I want young kids to have serious, thoughtful conversations where they are asked to think about complex problems. And I also need to be age-appropriate and respect what it natural and comfortable for first and second graders. Students read emotionally charged stories of migration—slaves migrating from the south to the north to find freedom, Vietnamese leaving Vietnam because of war, Chinese migrating to the U.S. to build the railroad where they work in racist and dangerous environments, migrant farm workers in California—and they were able to talk about them. Did they get the complexity of U.S. foreign policy? No. Even though I wanted to talk to them about those issues, I had to learn that these stories are stepping stones for them to eventually recognize that connection. Right now they are recognizing that people move—sometimes because they want to and other times because of dangerous conditions. They are learning that it’s hard to leave everything you know and move to a brand new place. They are learning that not everyone wanted them to be living in this new place and that doesn’t seem nice. This is why I know I can teach in the early grades.

This was a beautiful experience and I’m honored to have been given the opportunity to have had multiple mentors, weekly seminars and reflection, and the chance to apply what I am learning over the course of many months. Time and experience really does teach.

When It's Okay To Teach

As someone who loves the rewards of facilitation and open dialogues, this week quickly taught me that direct teaching can be just as rewarding and at moments, more important than an open dialogue. I spent the first half of the week introducing wow words (or more descriptive language) that students could use in their writing. I had (what I thought!) an exciting interactive mini-unit on the use and practice of these words. While the lessons never failed miserably I was forced to think on my feet and often quickly change my original plans. At the beginning of some of the lessons I would ask open-ended questions to the students, which never seemed to guide the class to the purpose of the lesson. For example, during the first lesson where I had written out my weekend story with some “boring” words, I asked students, “What words do you think I used too much?” The students, eager to participate, replied with a list of words that although I had said them a number of times, were not the words I was focusing on for this lesson. In that moment, I changed my teaching style and said clearly, even underlining, the words that I used too much. By the final lesson I had a handful of sentences written on large poster paper where the class decided how to rewrite/replace the boring word (said, good, bad) in the sentence with a wow word. This was much more direct teaching than I had been previously comfortable with, but the students (and I) felt more organized and clear about the expectations and how to use the skill I was teaching them. I know there are times when a facilitation style of teaching is more useful for students or for the objective on a lesson, but recognizing that direct-teaching is actually an essential part of schooling was an important lesson for me to learn.

Parent-teacher conferences were held during the afternoon for three days. I sat in on a handful of these meetings observing how my teacher addresses parent concerns and maneuvers balancing her concerns with honoring the strengths of the child. Sometimes I wondered why concerns that the teacher has expressed to me throughout the day, were not addressed during the meeting. During the meeting with the parents of one of the ELL students, I wondered what the legal obligations of the school are to have translators for the parents. It was clear how much parents want to know what to do to help their son or daughter be successful when the parents of a student with some behavior and academic challenges had their meeting with the teacher.

When I first learned how teachers recognize (and memorize!) the strengths and weakness of each child, through formal and informal assessment, it quickly became one of the skills I was most afraid I would not be able to “do” as a teacher. Throughout my time in classrooms, it becomes clearer how much teachers can learn about their students. I know what to observe, how to observe, and the usefulness of jotting down a few notes about each child at the end of every few days. I know what questions to ask students when they are struggling with a topic or have quickly finished an assignment to assess their real understanding of the situation or problem. After only 3 or so weeks, I feel comfortable talking about the academic and social issues of each of the students in the classroom.

Migration

Due to some complications I'm now in another school--a rural school in a second grade classroom. Instead of driving past tall buildings, malls, hotels---I take long, winding roads pass farmland and trees collecting sap for the syrup-making season. Instead of having 20 + students and teaching in a classroom full of mostly Puerto Rican children, there are 14 students (with now three adults in the classroom) who are mostly white. My cooperating teacher writes a beautiful blog about her classroom and you might even be able to see some photos of me working with kids (http://sunderlandgrade2.blogspot.com/). While there are a few English Language Learners, most of them are born in the U.S. and are highly proficient (academically and socially) in English so instruction looks a lot different than it did in the urban school where many students were literally learning English in school. I make these statements not as judgments, but as observations of differences.

I'm excited to be a teacher for many reasons--but mainly because I think it's brilliant to attempt to understand how the minds of children work--how do they learn to care about the world, how do they learn to become citizens of the world. As part of my student teaching requirements, I am designing (and implementing) an integrated unit. Based on what the kids have already been taught--my unit (which I'll start in a few weeks) is titled "Measuring our stories: using geography and measurement to learn about our location and histories." I am using the Massachusetts Curriculum Frameworks of second grade to combine learning expectations for geography (social studies) and measurement (math). There are definitely ways to integrate literature and writing components. Students will explore their personal histories of migration--by learning about measurement tools (rulers, weights, etc.) and maps to understand key geographic elements of the world. Based on the reading I've done about English Language Learners having units that integrate many similar themes across disciplines helps, especially, ELL students develop the key language in one area (instead of having to learn many different sets of vocabulary for disconnected units). The ELL students in this class, while proficient and can easily "pass" as learning the material, I'm noticing the ways in which they are struggling with understanding (really understanding the content) because learning is so "language-based." I'm sure an integrated unit won't just help the ELL students--often accommodations for one group, is ultimately useful for everyone (it's why having students with different needs, I think, is so helpful as a teacher--it challenges teachers to make sure they are reaching all of their students).

Okay back to the unit. I ultimately want students to know that there are specific measurement tools that are helpful when creating relationships between one thing and another thing (this is what we call the "big idea") and I root some of this in immigration stories (the other part of the unit involves creating maps of their school/classroom and exploring ways to use measurement tools). Students will share their immigration stories--but I'm struggling with this. I want students to understand that some people find the U.S. home--and have always found it as home--even if they have moved within the U.S. (or been forced to moved). I want students to understand that even though the label might imply migration from one continent to another place (i.e. African American) some folks don't feel any connection to the "original home" and thus that place might not be "home" at all. I want student to understand that migration is still happening. I want students to understand that some people don't know where their biological families "came from," but that doesn't mean they don't have a history. I want to present the idea of disabled folks leaving nursing homes and into their communities as migration, too. (If you have any thoughts on good children's literature that might address some of these questions--please let me know). I want students to know that stories of immigration are fluid and there is no "right" way to answer these questions, but it's important to explore our personal histories to get a sense of how we got to where we are now. I think it's a tangible way to give second graders a sense of history and time.

I hope ultimately there is a respectful balance between giving students time to share their stories (and learn about key geographical features from these continents and using map keys to measure distance!) and exposing them to other stories of migration. By holding multiple stories, I hope students learn who is "not" in their classroom and community, but who is present in the world. I hope students learn to think critically about why this might be and whether it's good or bad or just is. And this is why teaching is so exciting for me.

Real Strategies

This week was filled with ample examples of how teaching requires the implementation of well thought out plans that often use proven strategies (or best practices). While sometimes using a strategy I pull out of my pocket can be effective---I'm really learn that there are concrete skills and strategies to teaching. Previously during the daily math practice and mini-lessons with the first and second graders (at separate times) I felt like I was just using random strategies to review their 5-problem daily warm-ups. I would often feel overwhelmed and ineffective. The range of abilities and understandings, particularly among the first graders, was challenging and I felt like I was forcing students to understand a concept when they weren’t ready to learn it (or had the right foundation to actually learn it).

Thanks to a meeting with my professor, things began to change. One child, who did not seem to understand the abstractness of addition when a problem was written down, began to use teddy bear counters (I mean who wouldn't like math if you could count plastic multicolored teddy bears!). I noticed that I had simply been verbally introducing directions or following up with students without modeling what it should look like or taking the necessary time to make sure everyone knew what to do. With this particular child, I sat down with her first thing in the morning and we went through the first 4 problems together. I had colored the first addend blue and the second addend red so that she would know exactly which teddy bears to use for which number. Then I watched her do a problem or two on her own and eventually left her to do the rest of the problems by herself. It took her almost an entire hour to do the 30 problems (and I’m still not sure if doing 30 problems was necessary). When she walked over to me holding the finished worked, she had a smile that could have lit up an entire city. She was clearly proud. As a girl who rarely speaks or participates in class, this was wonderful to see. The rest of the day she contributed to class discussions. Next week, I need to continue to modify assignments for her because it seems clear that when she feels like she can do it, she becomes a more vibrant part of the classroom community. Finding ways for kids to be successful is important.

Many of the children were struggling with the one or two story problems—how to know what it’s asking (addition/subtraction). I began to first simplify the story problems by using single digit numbers and using more practical scenarios (using their names instead of the given names in the problem). The students quickly seemed more engaged. Toward the end of the week some of the students even wanted to start sharing their own problems. The strategy is working, but the students still seem to need lots of practice. I am struggling with how much I should use the story problems as an opportunity for them to practice their reading skills and how much I should just use the story problems to allow them to simply focus on their math skills. There is one girl in particular who has advanced math skills, but struggles with reading (so much she just skips the story problems). Right now, I’ve decided that kids, with my support, will read through the problem at least (following along with their finger) and then I’ll reread it and paraphrase it so that I can really see who understands the math concepts and who is just getting bogged down by the words. I’m not sure if this is right, though.

My final modification this week was learning the importance of introducing key vocabulary before a read aloud. Although it was beneficial for everyone, it was particularly noticeable for the English Language Learners. A student, who previous to this strategy left my read aloud to pick a book she knew, now quickly became engaged in my read aloud. I even gave a handful of students the job to remind me when we read the key words in the story. This brought kids who were previously less invested, more responsibility to pay attention. While making changes within the moment are important, reviewing and implementing best practices I’ve learned throughout my courses at MHC and within my pre-practicum placements makes me feel like this is actually teaching and not a remedial or tutoring session.

The other side

Individualized Education Plan or IEP was not an unfamiliar term for me when my cooperating teacher asked me if I wanted to join her for one of her student’s IEP meetings. However, being on the educator side was definitely new for me. My brother who has an intellectual disability was often know as one of the first students to start attending and presenting at his own IEP meetings, along with baking his famous “IEP brownies,” when he was in middle and high school. My mom has written and spoken widely about being the “parent” at these meetings—often saying that it wasn’t that she really wanted to be mean to teachers (often she was the “hated parent”), it was that she was terribly afraid and worried about what the meeting would mean for her son and his future.

When I sat down at this meeting, I was carrying a lot with me. I was constantly assessing the situation for all of those in the room: the parent, the various therapists, the coordinator, and the special education and the general education teachers. I was troubled by the lack of input the general educator was able to contribute (or asked to contribute especially because the child is with this teacher 90% of the time) and the strong emphasis on following a medicalized prescribed pattern, instead of more relaxed and warm atmosphere. The meeting started by announcing what we were there to attend: The meeting of child X to discuss her X disability. It seemed so formal. The range of emotions that the parents must have been experiencing seemed irrelevant. It just felt so nervous. Most progress was only recorded or deemed acceptable evidence by any formal testing (district assessments, etc.) that had been done, as opposed to observations or other forms of evaluation.

I appreciated how, during a few instances, one of the educators or therapists would try to make a more personalized connection with the parent—remarking how she sends her kids to the same doctor as the mother. I understand that IEP meetings can be helpful for informing the parent and the child’s support team on the child’s progress and the necessary areas for improvement or more support. It was useful for me—just getting to know this child—how to be helpful, what sorts of verbal cues are useful for her, and what areas I should watch out for that may trigger a certain reaction in her. But I wonder what are the other ways that IEP meetings can be held...how could educators make parents and caregivers feel supported and safe? How should disability be talked about so that families and educators learn how students with disabilities learn to see themselves and their disability as not a deficiency, but a source of pride, an identity with a deep history and culture? How do families and educators hold multiple feelings during these meetings: fear for what's next, excitement and pride of accomplishments...? How do we hold the accomplishments as not "overcoming" or "hero"-like but challenges that student faced and grew from? How does the support circle for the child with the disability create a child that can eventually advocate for him or herself? What would this look like? How would this work? What changes should we all be making?

As my kindergarten placement came to an end, I felt as if I gained some concrete skills that will be useful when I return from break to start the next placement (in a multi-grade, 1st to 3rd grade classroom). I know the pattern that is helpful for me in learning how to run the classroom—observe—try it—observe again—try again. I found this most useful in concentrating the second time on picking up some of the more subtle transitions or key wording that I didn’t observe or do the first time. I am becoming more comfortable finding what I like about the Montessori method and what structures or activities I would want to modify. I am recognizing the importance of stopping, even in the middle of chaos or during a lesson, to assess what is happening and what is most important to convey at this moment. (For example, when I was transitioning the kids from lunch to their read aloud one day, instead of lecturing to them on how they entered the classroom in a disruptive manner; I decided to just start reading the book. They immediately sat down and became fully immersed in the story.--this was such a good lesson for me to learn!) I am feeling more comfortable using a teacher presence that balances both a firm and respectful tone.

Loving Each Child

I was getting pulled into the disciplinarian role. It seemed like I spent most of my day reminding kids to “show me what you should be doing,” and constantly monitoring their behavior. The teachers who I work with also spend a great deal of their energy on monitoring students’ behavior. But when I reflect on what kind of teacher I want to be—rarely does the image of me correcting a child’s behavior appear (especially when working with three to five year olds—who I fundamentally believe should not be disciplined for moving their bodies. Bodies moving at five years old seem very age appropriate and necessary!). There is a balance I must find during student teacher of respecting the routine and expectations in the classroom where I am working and the values that I hold.

After attending the education seminar on Tuesday, I was reminded to find “what is lovable in each child.” I was forced to reflect on the past two weeks of student teaching and quickly come to the realization that I had forgotten to give positive encouragement and affirmations to each child. When children would come up to show me work they have completed (looking for my, “Okay, you can put this away and start your next work”), I would first jump to the mistakes on their work.

I went into my student teaching the next day with a commitment to giving affirmations and connecting in more positive ways with each child. I really do want to love, respect, and admire the children who I work with everyday. When children showed me their work, I made sure to find something that was wonderful and tell them this, before I asked them to double check their work. When a student struggled with her reading, I made a more conscious effort to congratulate her on her reading progress, before focusing on isolating the first sound in the difficult word (and then giving her praise after she finished reading the tricky word). The emphasis on affirming positive behaviors in each child was extraordinary. It seemed as if the teachers became happier and more excited and supportive of their students. The drive home after school became less frustrating and more upbeat. I saw more kids laugh with me (it's so much fun to laugh with kids!) and they smiled to one another more frequently. Maybe all of this was already happening and now I was just open to seeing it. Or maybe an emphasis on affirmations made everyone feel more welcomed in the classroom. Maybe both.