Sunday, September 13, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Misplaced Lillies
Lily2
Originally uploaded by maryann712
These two are a couple misfits growing in the middle of some sage and lavender. I'm guessing a bird "transplanted" from our side yard, where they were planted.
One Lily
lily5
Originally uploaded by maryann712
We had five minutes of sun in between downpours, so I grabbed my camera and headed to the garden.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Teaching Eli
In an effort to get to my goal of writing a thousand words a day, I'll be blogging to share my literacy experiences this summer.
Teaching Eli, Day one
It’s summertime and Eli is a good solid four years old. Since he’s a December birthday, he’s got more than a year to wait for kindergarten, which is fine with me. And, since his mom’s a reading teacher I have more than a few tricks up my sleeve to get him “ready”.
In about 15-20 minutes a day a few days a week, with occasional reminders and revisits, he’ll have a good knowledge of letters and words by the end of the summer, and how they work to relay ideas. But most importantly, he’ll continue to have a love of reading that has been instilled since birth!
My “Lesson Plan”
I’m in my pajamas sipping coffee, Eli’s in his PJ’s too with a dried milk mustache from his cereal. We’re sitting on my bed with a big box of “new stuff” (items I brought home from school that were leftover from the year). We have some discarded library books with beautiful pictures. Tiny odd stacks of almost-gone sticky notes in all different colors. A variety of index cards. Partially cut-up magazines. An extra ABC book that never got used. And loads of crayons and markers that Eli got from Santa. To some in looks like trash, but to Eli and me: TREASURE.
Eli is excited and raring to go. I want to use that as a resource, so I know I have to make the lesson quick. And I’m Mommy, not teacher. So the main element is F U N. I will carefully watch for signs of boredom and fatigue and change activities or end the lesson before it sets in.
We start with the new books. I have Eli pick one for us to read aloud. He chooses the wordless picture book, Of Colors and Things, by Tana Hoban so I grab the little sticky notes. We look through the amazing photographs and as he begins to name the items, I say, “Oh! We could write our own words for this book. Let’s use the little sticky notes!” He begins to point to the pictures he wants me to label, “Balloon...Duck...Jellybeans (we pretends to eat the jellybeans)...” As I write the words I say them slowly. Eli started to guess initial letter sounds of words about a month ago, so I ask him what he hears in the words. He amazes me with what he already knows:
E: Duck...D...K
M: Yes! It starts with ‘d’ and ends with ‘k’! Look at it! (Eli examines the word and smiles.)
E: Sunflower...C...no, S. (The confusing names of letters and sounds has been an ongoing conversation at our dinner table recently. His statement shows an amazing understanding of the multi-functionality of letters in the English language.)
M: Yes! It’s ‘s’!
E: And that’s a duckling not a duck, so write ‘duckling’ there.
M: OK, I’ll put an ‘ing’ here, now it says ‘duckling’.
As I write the words, Eli sticks them on the pictures. We only do this for a few pictures, and then we just enjoy the rest of the book, talking about what we see. I don’t overemphasize the letters and words, I keep the focus on the beautiful photographs and the enjoyment of reading.
After we finish the story, I suggest that we use the sticky notes to label things around the house. He giggles at the idea and is eager to participate. I write “door” and ask him to go stick it on the bedroom door. As he suggests other things (wall, cat, fridge) I ask him what he hears and write the words down. He falls apart into laughter as he tries to stick the word ‘cat’ on poor Gus. But Gus being the ever-obliging pet allows Eli to place a tiny blue sticky note on his head. All for the sake of literacy, I’m sure Gus is thinking.
I keep this activity light and write quickly, again I’m not drilling and killing. I’m just asking him out of curiosity to help him see the relationships between letters, sounds, and words. I want him to have a solid understanding of letter-sound relationships so when he’s ready to learn to read he’ll have all the tools he’ll need.
Once we’ve placed 4 or 5 sticky notes around the house, we move on to the ABC book. I have a magazine, scissors and a glue stick ready. Eli flips through the magazine excitedly naming objects he sees, so I identify the starting letters and show him the pages in the ABC book on which they get pasted. We spend a few minutes cutting and pasting into the book. Then without prompting, he picks up a crayon and writes some of the letters he sees on each page. I coach him a tiny bit, but for the most part I am not concerned with the correct formation of the letters. I am just happy he shows an interest and I want to encourage this behavior, so I follow his lead.
We’ve been “working” for about 10 minutes now, and he has already accomplished a great deal. I know he’ll be losing interest soon and I want to end the lesson before he does. I pull out the index cards and tell him that I will write any words he wants. Any words- TV characters, toys, family members...anything. He blurts out, “BATMAN!” And of course I repeat the word, and ask what he hears. He tells me ‘b’ and ‘n’. I am delighted that he is attending to the initial and final sounds, but I don’t let on. I just write them and show the word to him, confirming what he already knows. He follows up with ‘Batgirl’, ‘Superman’, ‘Peter Pan’, ‘Sammy’, and ‘Auntie Denise’. These last two words are especially important today because he is going to Auntie’s house later to play with his cousin Sammy.
I set the six cards out face up and we look at the similarities. ‘Batman’ and ‘Batgirl’ look a lot alike, which one’s which? We look at the endings so we can find out. We do the same with Superman and Sammy. After examining the words for a couple minutes, I stack them up and show him one at a time. He reads them to me, with a few errors, but the mistakes mostly based on the initial letters so I know he is looking at the words and thinking. I lay them out again and we re-examine them. I have him hand me words he knows, and he does so starting with Batman. He hands me the cards one at time, and reads each one correctly.
The lesson goes about 25 minutes today, longer than I expected, but he was eager and in tune so I kept going. Later I might pull the index cards out and see if he can recall the six words. I may take some away if he isn’t able to recall them accurately. This isn’t a punishment, I just want to use meaningful words. If they don’t stick, I’ll weed them out and replace them with words that will.
Until next time...
Teaching Eli, Day one
It’s summertime and Eli is a good solid four years old. Since he’s a December birthday, he’s got more than a year to wait for kindergarten, which is fine with me. And, since his mom’s a reading teacher I have more than a few tricks up my sleeve to get him “ready”.
In about 15-20 minutes a day a few days a week, with occasional reminders and revisits, he’ll have a good knowledge of letters and words by the end of the summer, and how they work to relay ideas. But most importantly, he’ll continue to have a love of reading that has been instilled since birth!
My “Lesson Plan”
I’m in my pajamas sipping coffee, Eli’s in his PJ’s too with a dried milk mustache from his cereal. We’re sitting on my bed with a big box of “new stuff” (items I brought home from school that were leftover from the year). We have some discarded library books with beautiful pictures. Tiny odd stacks of almost-gone sticky notes in all different colors. A variety of index cards. Partially cut-up magazines. An extra ABC book that never got used. And loads of crayons and markers that Eli got from Santa. To some in looks like trash, but to Eli and me: TREASURE.
Eli is excited and raring to go. I want to use that as a resource, so I know I have to make the lesson quick. And I’m Mommy, not teacher. So the main element is F U N. I will carefully watch for signs of boredom and fatigue and change activities or end the lesson before it sets in.
We start with the new books. I have Eli pick one for us to read aloud. He chooses the wordless picture book, Of Colors and Things, by Tana Hoban so I grab the little sticky notes. We look through the amazing photographs and as he begins to name the items, I say, “Oh! We could write our own words for this book. Let’s use the little sticky notes!” He begins to point to the pictures he wants me to label, “Balloon...Duck...Jellybeans (we pretends to eat the jellybeans)...” As I write the words I say them slowly. Eli started to guess initial letter sounds of words about a month ago, so I ask him what he hears in the words. He amazes me with what he already knows:
E: Duck...D...K
M: Yes! It starts with ‘d’ and ends with ‘k’! Look at it! (Eli examines the word and smiles.)
E: Sunflower...C...no, S. (The confusing names of letters and sounds has been an ongoing conversation at our dinner table recently. His statement shows an amazing understanding of the multi-functionality of letters in the English language.)
M: Yes! It’s ‘s’!
E: And that’s a duckling not a duck, so write ‘duckling’ there.
M: OK, I’ll put an ‘ing’ here, now it says ‘duckling’.
As I write the words, Eli sticks them on the pictures. We only do this for a few pictures, and then we just enjoy the rest of the book, talking about what we see. I don’t overemphasize the letters and words, I keep the focus on the beautiful photographs and the enjoyment of reading.
After we finish the story, I suggest that we use the sticky notes to label things around the house. He giggles at the idea and is eager to participate. I write “door” and ask him to go stick it on the bedroom door. As he suggests other things (wall, cat, fridge) I ask him what he hears and write the words down. He falls apart into laughter as he tries to stick the word ‘cat’ on poor Gus. But Gus being the ever-obliging pet allows Eli to place a tiny blue sticky note on his head. All for the sake of literacy, I’m sure Gus is thinking.
I keep this activity light and write quickly, again I’m not drilling and killing. I’m just asking him out of curiosity to help him see the relationships between letters, sounds, and words. I want him to have a solid understanding of letter-sound relationships so when he’s ready to learn to read he’ll have all the tools he’ll need.
Once we’ve placed 4 or 5 sticky notes around the house, we move on to the ABC book. I have a magazine, scissors and a glue stick ready. Eli flips through the magazine excitedly naming objects he sees, so I identify the starting letters and show him the pages in the ABC book on which they get pasted. We spend a few minutes cutting and pasting into the book. Then without prompting, he picks up a crayon and writes some of the letters he sees on each page. I coach him a tiny bit, but for the most part I am not concerned with the correct formation of the letters. I am just happy he shows an interest and I want to encourage this behavior, so I follow his lead.
We’ve been “working” for about 10 minutes now, and he has already accomplished a great deal. I know he’ll be losing interest soon and I want to end the lesson before he does. I pull out the index cards and tell him that I will write any words he wants. Any words- TV characters, toys, family members...anything. He blurts out, “BATMAN!” And of course I repeat the word, and ask what he hears. He tells me ‘b’ and ‘n’. I am delighted that he is attending to the initial and final sounds, but I don’t let on. I just write them and show the word to him, confirming what he already knows. He follows up with ‘Batgirl’, ‘Superman’, ‘Peter Pan’, ‘Sammy’, and ‘Auntie Denise’. These last two words are especially important today because he is going to Auntie’s house later to play with his cousin Sammy.
I set the six cards out face up and we look at the similarities. ‘Batman’ and ‘Batgirl’ look a lot alike, which one’s which? We look at the endings so we can find out. We do the same with Superman and Sammy. After examining the words for a couple minutes, I stack them up and show him one at a time. He reads them to me, with a few errors, but the mistakes mostly based on the initial letters so I know he is looking at the words and thinking. I lay them out again and we re-examine them. I have him hand me words he knows, and he does so starting with Batman. He hands me the cards one at time, and reads each one correctly.
The lesson goes about 25 minutes today, longer than I expected, but he was eager and in tune so I kept going. Later I might pull the index cards out and see if he can recall the six words. I may take some away if he isn’t able to recall them accurately. This isn’t a punishment, I just want to use meaningful words. If they don’t stick, I’ll weed them out and replace them with words that will.
Until next time...
Monday, September 29, 2008
Who Am I, and What Am I Doing Here?
There are many different styles of support teachers out there. There is the controlling support teacher who has all the right answers. There is the absent support teacher who always seems to have something more important to do than teach. There is the incompetent but ever-present support teacher who needs to be handheld through lessons. There is the absent-minded support teacher who means well but can never find anything, is always running late, and is forever showing up at the wrong time. There is the support teacher that needs to either retire or find a new profession because they are no longer fit to work with humans. When I took this job, I made a vow to myself not to become any of the above support teachers.
The first thing I did was set up my workspace. I’d been a reading teacher before so I knew what kinds of materials I’d want on hand. Stacks of index cards, sticky notes, loads of pens and pencils, and everything written by Debbie Miller, Lucy Calkins, Ruth Culham and Fountas and Pinnell within reach. I filled my file drawers with all of the graphic organizers and strategy lessons (thank you Stephanie Harvey and Ann Goudvis) that I had designed and used as a classroom teacher. I would be ready to hit these kids with innovative reading strategies and writing traits right off the bat and produce Fours (capitalized to show significance) on the upcoming State tests from even the most struggling of readers. My cart’s wheels were greased and my portable easel loaded up with fresh lo-scent dry erase markers. My magnetic letters were sorted, alphabetically of course, and my freshly printed plan book was ready to absorb all of my ideas.
And off I went.
I should mention that I had been teaching fifth grade for the previous five years. And in this reading teacher position I would be working with first graders through fourth. So what I was about to encounter in the first and second grades was...well... A bit of an adjustment. Reading is universal; and I know reading. I can listen as a reader reads two hundred words and let you know what decoding strategies he or she is using and whether their comprehension is at literal level or if the student is inferring the author’s message. But. First graders. I’ll think I’ve got them, I’ll think they’re listening when I ask them, “What did you do to get through that tricky word?” And then they tell me, very seriously and intently, “Your breath smells like coffee.” Or, “You have chicken pox right THERE,” as they point out a zit on my chin. As if that’s not bad enough, the others will chime in sympathetically and say, “Yeah you do!” And if I argue, they’ll only get louder and more insistent.
It’s through times like these, I've learned how to shift gears. And to keep little breath mints on my cart amongst the index cards. Not gum mind you, otherwise my students’ mouths will hang open and their eyes will settle on my jaw movement as I am chomping away. Once again I’ll think they’re paying attention, but then they’ll start unconsciously mimicking my chewing. So now I leave the gum for home. But indeed, when one is working with multiple ages of students, he or she simply must know how to adjust speech speed, mannerisms, even voice tone, to accommodate younger friends. Otherwise those poor kids will end up either thoroughly confused, frightened, or crying. And I know I don’t want to be that support teacher.
So the tips I've picked up thus far by for working with primary students are as follows:
* Smile, a lot.
* Use a soft voice, but not too quiet. You will lull them to sleep if you’re not careful.
* Get very close to them and crouch down when speaking, reading, giving directions. Proximity is everything.
* Don’t expect them to sit still. Let them sit on their feet, lean on the table, stand while they work, and wiggle. It’s developmentally appropriate, and senseless to try and fight it.
* Bring stickers. Use them liberally.
* Expect to be hugged frequently, and to have your named shrieked from the opposite end of the hall.
* Use cool and funny props. The cornier the better. Magic wands, magnifying glasses decorated with puffy paint and glitter...whatever it takes.
* Smile, a lot.
Mistakes are inevitable. But I know no one expects perfection. Doing the best I can is hard work, and it’s a process. Writing about this experience is part of how I continually learn about what kind of teacher I want to be. I can joke about mistakes and mishaps here, but the bottom line is that every day, no matter how tired I am or how little time I’ve got...every day counts. And this I know for sure.
The first thing I did was set up my workspace. I’d been a reading teacher before so I knew what kinds of materials I’d want on hand. Stacks of index cards, sticky notes, loads of pens and pencils, and everything written by Debbie Miller, Lucy Calkins, Ruth Culham and Fountas and Pinnell within reach. I filled my file drawers with all of the graphic organizers and strategy lessons (thank you Stephanie Harvey and Ann Goudvis) that I had designed and used as a classroom teacher. I would be ready to hit these kids with innovative reading strategies and writing traits right off the bat and produce Fours (capitalized to show significance) on the upcoming State tests from even the most struggling of readers. My cart’s wheels were greased and my portable easel loaded up with fresh lo-scent dry erase markers. My magnetic letters were sorted, alphabetically of course, and my freshly printed plan book was ready to absorb all of my ideas.
And off I went.
I should mention that I had been teaching fifth grade for the previous five years. And in this reading teacher position I would be working with first graders through fourth. So what I was about to encounter in the first and second grades was...well... A bit of an adjustment. Reading is universal; and I know reading. I can listen as a reader reads two hundred words and let you know what decoding strategies he or she is using and whether their comprehension is at literal level or if the student is inferring the author’s message. But. First graders. I’ll think I’ve got them, I’ll think they’re listening when I ask them, “What did you do to get through that tricky word?” And then they tell me, very seriously and intently, “Your breath smells like coffee.” Or, “You have chicken pox right THERE,” as they point out a zit on my chin. As if that’s not bad enough, the others will chime in sympathetically and say, “Yeah you do!” And if I argue, they’ll only get louder and more insistent.
It’s through times like these, I've learned how to shift gears. And to keep little breath mints on my cart amongst the index cards. Not gum mind you, otherwise my students’ mouths will hang open and their eyes will settle on my jaw movement as I am chomping away. Once again I’ll think they’re paying attention, but then they’ll start unconsciously mimicking my chewing. So now I leave the gum for home. But indeed, when one is working with multiple ages of students, he or she simply must know how to adjust speech speed, mannerisms, even voice tone, to accommodate younger friends. Otherwise those poor kids will end up either thoroughly confused, frightened, or crying. And I know I don’t want to be that support teacher.
So the tips I've picked up thus far by for working with primary students are as follows:
* Smile, a lot.
* Use a soft voice, but not too quiet. You will lull them to sleep if you’re not careful.
* Get very close to them and crouch down when speaking, reading, giving directions. Proximity is everything.
* Don’t expect them to sit still. Let them sit on their feet, lean on the table, stand while they work, and wiggle. It’s developmentally appropriate, and senseless to try and fight it.
* Bring stickers. Use them liberally.
* Expect to be hugged frequently, and to have your named shrieked from the opposite end of the hall.
* Use cool and funny props. The cornier the better. Magic wands, magnifying glasses decorated with puffy paint and glitter...whatever it takes.
* Smile, a lot.
Mistakes are inevitable. But I know no one expects perfection. Doing the best I can is hard work, and it’s a process. Writing about this experience is part of how I continually learn about what kind of teacher I want to be. I can joke about mistakes and mishaps here, but the bottom line is that every day, no matter how tired I am or how little time I’ve got...every day counts. And this I know for sure.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Why I Do It
I don't have the kind of personality that can tolerate doing a job I don't like. If I'm going to do something fifty or sixty hours a week, I have to love it. I have to believe in it because for me it encompasses so much of who I am.
I have friends, and even my brother, who refer to the day-to-day, ho-hum of work as, "The Daily Grind". Their passions lie elsewhere, so they work the grind and go home. Every day, every week, year after year. And they seem to be OK with it. But that's not why I do this job. I'm not cut out for that.
I could say I got into teaching because I wanted summers off. I could say it was because of the benefits and the retirement package. But those reasons are far from the truth.
Prior to teaching, I ran a child care center. It was a big old house renovated to accommodate around 40 kids. I had a dedicated staff of about 8 people, who worked for far less than they were worth, in return for free child care and an opportunity to shape kids' lives. It was there that I discovered the magic of teaching. It was there that I learned to see through the eyes of a child, and where I learned that the best teacher was the one who didn't have all the answers. Even though I knew when they mixed the blue and yellow Play-Doh they'd get green, I didn't let on. Even though I knew they'd slop the macaroni and cheese on the table, I'd let them serve themselves at lunchtime. Why? Because nothing- I mean NOTHING beats seeing the look of AH-HA when a child discovers something for himself. To me, hearing the words, "I did it!" from a three year old child provides satisfaction unmatched by any other phrase. It was a celebration of gigantic proportions when a toddler put her shoes on all by herself for the first time, or when a four year old finally mastered the art of pumping on the playground swings. Their accomplishments were mine, and I thrived on them.
But child care didn't pay the bills, and after several years of financial struggle it was time to face the truth. In February of 2000 I closed the doors on my child care center and went in search of something new. It took no time to decide where I needed to look, and off I went to graduate school to get certified to teach elementary school and reading.
So here I am now, eight years later. Still delighting in the ah-ha moments of children; still taking pride in their accomplishments as if they were my own. And why not? It's why I do it.
I have friends, and even my brother, who refer to the day-to-day, ho-hum of work as, "The Daily Grind". Their passions lie elsewhere, so they work the grind and go home. Every day, every week, year after year. And they seem to be OK with it. But that's not why I do this job. I'm not cut out for that.
I could say I got into teaching because I wanted summers off. I could say it was because of the benefits and the retirement package. But those reasons are far from the truth.
Prior to teaching, I ran a child care center. It was a big old house renovated to accommodate around 40 kids. I had a dedicated staff of about 8 people, who worked for far less than they were worth, in return for free child care and an opportunity to shape kids' lives. It was there that I discovered the magic of teaching. It was there that I learned to see through the eyes of a child, and where I learned that the best teacher was the one who didn't have all the answers. Even though I knew when they mixed the blue and yellow Play-Doh they'd get green, I didn't let on. Even though I knew they'd slop the macaroni and cheese on the table, I'd let them serve themselves at lunchtime. Why? Because nothing- I mean NOTHING beats seeing the look of AH-HA when a child discovers something for himself. To me, hearing the words, "I did it!" from a three year old child provides satisfaction unmatched by any other phrase. It was a celebration of gigantic proportions when a toddler put her shoes on all by herself for the first time, or when a four year old finally mastered the art of pumping on the playground swings. Their accomplishments were mine, and I thrived on them.
But child care didn't pay the bills, and after several years of financial struggle it was time to face the truth. In February of 2000 I closed the doors on my child care center and went in search of something new. It took no time to decide where I needed to look, and off I went to graduate school to get certified to teach elementary school and reading.
So here I am now, eight years later. Still delighting in the ah-ha moments of children; still taking pride in their accomplishments as if they were my own. And why not? It's why I do it.
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