Throughts and Reflections on My Blog's Birthday

March is my blog's birthday. Nine years ago I began posting thoughts here about play and preschoolers and learning. (I guess I can still claim 9 years even though I've had a break for the past few months - well, I'm claiming it anyway!)

I have written here about play and the ways that we have played for 9 years. In those years, I have learned some things and changed my mind about some things. I've found allies and ran into some critics.

I have taught preschoolers in art camp and in choir, taught kindergartners at church, taught first and second graders in public school.

I have talked with professors and other teachers in a variety of settings. I have listened to administrators and thought leaders and politicians. I have read blogs and books and tweets.

As I think back through those nine years and all those interactions, I have a few reflections.

1. Preschoolers and older kids play and will continue to play and learn through play. On their own, children play. And they learn and try and fail and help one another and experiment and grow in their knowledge and skills. They will do this without the intervention or in spite of the intervention of adults. Children play because that is what they have been designed to do.
2. Lots of things that adults do and impose on children in the name of education are not helpful and could be harmful. Even well-intentioned adults make some less-than-helpful choices. This usually happens when adults focus on things other than the children and their development.
3. There are lots of good ways to be an effective teacher, an engaging educator. Some of those ways are right in my ballpark and some are not. But someone who doesn’t do things exactly my way isn’t necessarily a "less good" (or "more good") teacher.
4. In most cases, we should strive for balance. When looking at things like technology, literacy, independent learning, projects, crafts, or whatever, often the best course is a middle one. We should choose things intentionally and purposefully.
5. We do best when we listen to the children. Listen to what they are telling us by their behavior. If they are wiggling and squirming and shouting, they may be telling us that what we’re asking of them isn’t appropriate for this group of kids. We are doing something too long or too complicated or too uninteresting (from their viewpoints). Listening to the behavior tells us it’s time to adjust.
   
   
   
6. We should also listen to the children through conversation and talking with them. Children are looking for adults to listen to what they say. I can learn what fears are troubling them, what family situations are going on, what interests may be a key to further learning…if I just listen to the words coming out of their mouths. I love to have conversations with children. I ask questions or just say, “tell me about it.” And they will and do.
7. Speak a kind word. Look for a teachable moment when a child is helping a friend or exploring an idea. Notice. Tell the child that you notice. Children often hear lots of things they are not doing right or well. Help them discover their successes.
8. We all know exactly what to do….until that one child comes along to explode our pet theory. Every time I have things all figured out, I get a class that helps me discover new and uncharted areas.
9. A group of children think that the adult in their world is more important than any other celebrity. (Just see one outside the classroom and you'll know what I mean!)
10. Grace goes a long way. Yes, we will all mess up or have a bad day. But after you deal with it, it’s over. The Vegas rule is usually the best one - what happens here stays here. And what happened yesterday stays in yesterday. Today is a new day to engage with one another and start fresh. (If there's a persistent problem, take steps to address it. Otherwise, every day is a new day.)

Nothing profound. Nothing revolutionary. And maybe nothing that you didn't already know long ago. But these things help me think about how I approach the classroom and how I interact with young children. 

I plan to be here, blogging about these and other playing/learning topics for a while yet. And remember the most important thing: Playing = Learning (for children and adults) Go out and play today!

That Time I Failed

An important part of teaching is being a learner. I like to learn new things and try new things. I like to improve what I'm doing and getting feedback on what I can change. Some of the best feedback happens when I fail - when things don't go as planned or when I see it fall apart. Then I learn the best lessons - how to do it better.

One particular time sticks in my mind. In fact, I can still feel the realization of my failure today, 3 years later.

I was teaching first grade. I had read about wonder walls - ways to capture kids' ideas and curiosity. So we started a wonder wall. I created a special place on a bulletin board. I lay self-stick notes near the wall. I introduced it to the kids and told them to write anything they wondered about. We would look at some of their notes from time to time.

This was a success. Kids wrote their wonders and put them on the wall.

One afternoon I pulled a couple from the wall and took them with me to our gathering spot. We had read a book and were winding down from the day. I read one of the wonders and we talked about it. (I don't remember this one.) Then I read a wonder that was something like: "I wonder what makes rainbows." Kids shared their ideas. The range of ideas was vast. Some were fanciful. Some were scientific. Some were religious.

Then it happened.

I began talking about rainbows and how they were formed by sunlight passing through raindrops. I didn't get too scientific but I did all the talking. They asked questions. We talked about it until they (and I) seemed to get to a point of closure. Then we moved on.

The day ended. I did my after school tasks. I was driving home. And the realization dawned on me. Well it hit me more like a board upside the head.

I had failed. I did not facilitate the learning. I lectured. I gave the answer. I was the sage, the know-it-all.

I thought about how things could have been. We could have talked about their ideas. I could have gathered books or online resources for research. I could have led them to discover the answer rather than give them the answer.

It bothered me. I know better. Or at least I claim to know better.

Did I cause harm to the kids or their learning? No. Did I steal a valuable learning opportunity from them? Perhaps.

Did I realize how easy it is to give information instead of facilitate learning? Yes.

That doesn't mean that I don't try to shortcut from time to time. But whenever I do, I remember the rainbow fail.

And it helps me recalibrate back to facilitator - asking questions and leading them toward discovery.

That time I failed hopefully has led to more success.

Summer Reading: Teach Like a Pirate

I have been hearing about the book Teach Like a Pirate by Dave Burgess. For a while. (I'm often behind the trends!) I decided to make this book my next read and reflect book. It's short and (so far) a quick read, so I'll finish it this summer.

The title of this book conjures all kinds of images. And, after all, dressing like a pirate would be great for early childhood, right? But that's not what this book is about. Dave Burgess writes: "Pirates are daring, adventurous, and willing to set forth into uncharted territories with no guarantee of success." That sounds like teaching young kids to me! And like the kind of teacher I'd like to be.

Burgess continues that pirates reject the status quo, embrace creativity and independence, take risks, travel with a like-minded crew, and don't worry about what people think of them. The "pirate" philosophy is built on these things: Passion, Immersion, Rapport, Ask/Analyze, Transformation, and Enthusiasm.

Passion
Most teachers are passionate about their students. And passionate about helping students learn and grow. But no teacher is passionate about everything he teaches and everything he does as a teacher. Burgess says that pirate teachers work to consistently bring passion into everything, even when they are doing or teaching what they find uninteresting. Teachers must look at three categories and identify their passions within those categories.

• Content Passion - What subject matter do you enjoy teaching? Look for specifics not just broad areas. For example, I really like teaching math - especially number sense. I enjoy helping kids break down numbers and look for different ways to create a number. I like building number problems about our day or our classroom. Now, in my church kindergarten class, I will often say things like, "We have 3 boys and 4 girls. How many kids do we have in all? How many chairs will we need? If I'm going to sit, too, how many chairs will we need in all?"
  
• Professional Passion - What about teaching/education drives you? What are you passionate about as a teacher (not specific to subject matter)? This passion often connects to why you became a teacher. I love to see kids make connections. I love to see the light bulbs go on. I love to help kids discover things for themselves. I love when kids are excited about what we're doing.
  
• Personal Passion - What are you passionate about that is not related to your profession? Find as many ways as possible to connect your personal passions to your work. I love to make things, especially things that are recycled or repurposed. I like finding creative ways to solve a problem. I like art. And I can see times when bringing in these ideas have really made me (and the kids) connect to content.

Dave Burgess says: "Teaching is a job filled with frustrations, trials, and tests of your patience. Use your passion to soar over obstacles instead of crashing into them and burning out." I can see how not doing this caused me some difficult times in my last second grade class. And when I shifted to focus on my passions caused many difficulties to minimize.

Immersion

Immersion is the ability to give yourself fully to the moment. Teachers who are immersed in the lesson or the classroom are fully engaged with what's happening. Students can feel when teachers are immersed/present...and when they are not. "A lack of immersion in the present sends a clear, although unspoken, message that this moment is somehow less important and not significant enough to be worth undivided attention."

Burgess uses a great analogy. He says that teachers can be lifeguards or swimmers. Lifeguards are focused on the pool and what's happening in it. But they are also separate and distant from it; they are on the sidelines. Swimmers are in the pool, participating in the action. They are a part of what is happening, fully engaged. 

If a teacher is immersed and fully present, he is excited about what's happening. He draws students into the action. "An instructor who is fully immersed in the moment has a special type of intensity that resonates with great power in the classroom, regardless of the activity." Immersed teachers have a plan for lessons but are not afraid to deviate from the plan if something happens in the classroom. Teachable moments come that won't wait and won't come again. If we are in the moment, we can follow those opportunities and help kids make lasting connections.

In my second grade class we were raising butterflies. One day a student noticed that a butterfly was emerging from a cocoon. A few already had, but it had happened overnight when we were not there. A cry went up about the butterfly. My math lesson was over. We watched what was happening. We talked about it. We found a video online so we could see the process again. I suggested we write about it and they did. The lesson changed because we could be fully in the moment...one that I could have never scripted. (And we continued subtraction with regrouping the next day.)

I have enjoyed reading about the first two characteristics and look forward to the rest of the book. While it focused on students that are older than I typically teach, I can see some definite applications and parallels to my younger kids. 

I'm already ready to teach like a pirate. Arrgh!

From Standardization to Personalization

I have just finished reading Creative Schools by Dr. Ken Robinson and Lou Aronica. The book has lots of things to think about. A main focus in the book is developing ways to make education more personal and connected to each individual student.

Toward the end of the book is a long quote from Jimmie Don Aycock, a Texas state representative. Here's the end of his quote:

"[Some people] felt that if you test students more, raise high standards, and keep the pressure on, we will excel and move forward in our educational results for children. I've got to admit that there was a time that I felt that way. The thing we missed in that thinking was that that's a nice mechanical view of education. It's like a factory-production view. What that fails to take into account is that human beings are not all alike. You can do the same thing and get very different results sometimes. So I backed away from that thinking and I realized that No Child Left Behind is left largely on that kind of thinking and I just don't believe that anymore."

A lot of what Ken Robinson has written addresses the need to change from this production line, everyone is alike culture to a more diverse, organic culture. The metaphor needs to change from industrial to agricultural. Teacher Tom has addressed these same concerns. I've seen school curriculum that assumes all students are the same and evaluate their work with little regard to individual development or background.

I hope we get to the point where interest and individual development and needs and strengths all have input in how we teach and what we value. (Yes, value. What we test and emphasize is what we value.) Telling a great story or drawing an insightful picture are important, valuable skills -- just as valuable as reading difficult words or reasoning through a math equation.

I love to use play, exploration, and investigation because kids can enter into experiences in their own ways, use their own strengths, gain support from others in non-threatening ways, and develop understanding through individual perspectives. Is play a cure all? No. But it does recognize individuality, much more than many strategies in the classroom today.

What Should They Be Learning?

In addition to starting to read The Power of Play, I am finishing reading the book Creative Schools by Dr. Ken Robinson. The book is a good discussion of issues that are facing educators today. Dr. Robinson includes some good thoughts about what schools should do (and provides some real-world examples of some of these things).

His discussion on curriculum was very interesting to me and still has me thinking. He lists eight competencies that schools should facilitate; what teachers do in the classroom should help students develop these competencies.

Curiosity – asking questions and exploring how the world works

Creativity – generating ideas and practicing them

Criticism – analyzing information, evaluating ideas, reasoning and forming arguments about these things

Communication – expressing thoughts and feelings clearly through different media and in a variety of forms

Collaboration – working constructively with others

Compassion – feeling empathy and acting on it

Composure – developing a strong sense of self and creating balance within

Citizenship – engaging with society and participating successfully in it

I can see a place for all of these competencies in a preschool or kindergarten class (as well as a high school or college classroom). As I continue to think about how to act purposefully and intentionally, these competencies will come into play.

What do you think? Do you see these working in the curriculum you teach and the things you do in the classroom?

I haven’t quite finished Creative Schools. But it certainly is a thought-provoking book and fits nicely into all I’m thinking about at the present time.

Students Are Not Data Points

from Creative Schools

Students are more than data. What we are teaching is more than content. Education is more than assessment.

Matching What You Do With What You Value

This fall I'm reading and reflecting on the book Teaching with Intention by Debbie Miller.

Chapter 2: Defining Beliefs and Aligning Practices

This chapter hits square with what I wanted. In this chapter, Debbie Miller talks about creating a set of statements that list what you believe and value about teaching. Think about what is important to you regarding the learning environment, the students, and your role as a teacher. Develop and refine statements that reflect this thinking.

Then...the hard part. Go through every one of the things you do in the classroom and measure those actions and practices with the statements you developed. Does what you do match what you say you believe and value? If something doesn't sync, do you need to change the practice or the belief statement?

Debbie Miller notes that she had to adjust some things that she did to match what she believes. But the standout statement for me regarding thinking about all the others who want to mold those belief statements for you. As she touched on curriculum programs and scripts, she writes: "Real life isn't scripted. Neither is real teaching."

Don't you just hate when you're reading and it seems that the author has been monitoring your own thinking or life? That statement sums up the struggle I had in the elementary classroom for both years. I wanted to do it "right" so I tried to follow the curriculum guides as closely as I could. I tried to use the "right" words and the "right" methods to help students learn and achieve.

I discovered that sometimes those things clashed with my own beliefs. And I would defer to the curriculum guide. Probably a mix of inexperience in this particular thing and some lack of confidence in my own knowledge and beliefs.

I didn't evaluate the purpose and support for the things in the teacher's guide. So I couldn't compare the beliefs or values of the curriculum to my own. I couldn't establish an equilibrium between methods and practices and my own core understandings about kids and learning. No wonder I struggled. No wonder things seemed hit or miss in the classroom.

At times I would adjust or just do things that I felt were right. At those times, my classroom "felt" right. It seemed things were humming much better. As I look back now, I feel rather stupid. How could I not have seen what was happening?

Recently I've been on a road to clarifying my own philosophy of teaching and learning. I think this book will help me see how to also clarify my own practices. It's interesting how things seem to be leading to this point. I'll be a much better teacher in days ahead.

When what you do doesn't match what you value, you hobble along as a teacher. I won't hobble myself or my students again.

Balancing Act

There are a lot of things in my head right now. Lots of issues related to early childhood education. Reading and reflecting on the book What If Everyone Understood Child Development? and reading the blog book study on Early Childhood and Youth Development.

A lively discussion on the first post of the blog book study developed regarding free play with little guidance versus a more structured or planned activities that offer more guidance to child's play. I've read conversations about use of technology in Rae Pica's book and in the book study comments (and other places).

Technology or screen-free? Free play or guided play? Use themes or not? Lots of issues rumble around in education for young children.

As I reflect and ponder, my mind comes to this answer: Yes and no.

I think that a balanced approach is often the best one. I provide materials for kids to use and may have items that suggest a certain type of play, but I will follow the kids' lead if they move in a different direction. I'll provide books and writing materials for kids to use as their interests dictate.

Teachers can incorporate technology in ways that make sense and support kids' exploration. They bring in real tools that allow investigation in purposeful and safe ways. They encourage risky play in a safe environment.

These two words have become the foundation of my thinking and philosophy for creating learning environments for kids: balance and intention. These two words rest on the bedrock of kids first.

Intention - do things in a purposeful way; choose to use what tools are needed to meet the needs of kids and encourage the best exploration possibilities.

Balance - don't lean too dogmatically toward one end or the other on most of those continuums; technology sometimes and no screens sometimes; free play sometimes and more guidance sometimes; more movement and noise sometimes and more quiet sometimes.

Kids first - do be dogmatic when it comes to kids' needs; avoid doing those things that don't meet the developmental needs of young kids; try things and then adjust or stop if it doesn't fit the kids; avoid requiring all kids to meet an arbitrary milestone.

Maybe I'm too wishy-washy on things. Maybe I need to stay "do this, not that." But I've seen too many groups of kids to say that every classroom and every kid should do one thing and not the other. The moment I think that, a kid comes along that proves me wrong.

I'm just thinking and pondering here. Maybe I'll change some of this thinking as I read and learn more.

But balance, intention, and kids first are the keys for me right now.

P.S.: I love Rae Pica's book. Every issue makes me think about where I stand on things. And I know that many things done in public schools today do not think about young kids. I recommend you read the book and think, too! (I get nothing for saying this. It's just my opinion.)

Learning in the Doing

It's something I heard at the very beginning of my foray into early childhood education - and it's something that I continue to hear to this day.

It's about the process rather than the product.

When I first heard it, I wondered about it and explored it. As I've worked with groups of kids (of all ages and all types), I know it is true.

The learning comes with the the doing of something. The value lies in the exploration and discovery, not what you have at the end.

This week I saw it in action again. Affirmation that kids are more about the experience of it all rather than the "something" that may exist at the end.

We were making wrist bands - using pieces of cardboard paper towel tube, masking tape, and stickers. I saw kids putting on stickers, removing them, rearranging them. I saw kids exploring how to pull take and cut tape. I saw "wrist bands" become towers or cylinders wrapped in tape.

I saw kids work on it for a while. Then some of them put their "product" in the trash can, just tossing it away. "I don't want it," they said.

This emphasis on product seems to be most at hand when kids are using art materials or related activities. We as adults expect an end product, it seems.

But this learning through doing happens throughout our classroom, the process is always in action.

I see it as kids use blocks. They explore different shapes and try different approaches. They mix materials in different and creative ways. I may talk about what they are doing but the end product is not important - and is so temporary.

I see it as kids play in our home center. Roles are taken on and discarded. Scenarios happen and then change. The table is set for a family meal and then evolves into a restaurant and then into a completely new place - all with the fluidity of process and learning and experience. In fact, this type of activity is all experience.

Years ago I read an article titles "Put Your Name on Your Painting But the Blocks Go Back on the Shelves." It stressed the value often put on more permanent experiences and less value on those temporary ones. I think we often stress "What are you making?" over "What are you doing?" or "What are you learning?"

Let's value the process, the doing, more than what may be made at the end. Let's value where the real learning happens.

What's the Reason?

Recently I was talking with a friend. She was telling me about her grandson and his homework. (He's in middle elementary school.) She said that the homework for the week was all on one page, and that the student's work for each day was to be written in a box at the bottom of a daily column. Only inside this box. And it was not a very large box.

I kept thinking about that conversation over and over. And I wondered why. It's hard for some kids to write in a small box. They don't have the muscle control or the economy of words or the patience to make it happen. Is it supportive of their learning if they can only be successful by working in a specific space? Why do it this way?

I'm not going to judge another teacher's motives or workflow. Especially when I don't know all the context and the facts. But I am going to rant a little anyway.

As teachers, parents, adults involved in kids lives, I think we need to ask the question WHY a lot. Not why is the child doing this or that. But why are WE doing this or that.

Why are we giving homework? What is the purpose, the intention behind it? Once we know the why, we can make the best decisions about things around it.

Why are we doing this particular activity in the classroom? Why are we doing it this way?

Are we doing things in certain ways because it's what works best for us? Should that be the criteria?

Are we doing things in a certain way because it is the best way for kids to learn?

Often I've seen adults doing things that are convenient or helpful or best for what they need...and not necessarily what the kids need. Now I know that teachers and parents have limited amounts of time and need to be organized and efficient in what they do.

But we need to make sure we are doing things that benefit and support learning and growing.

I can ask kids to do all kinds of things. But if it isn't ultimately going to help them become better learners and thinkers, do I need to do it? And do they need to do it in just my way?

I don't have pat answers. But I do have a lot of questions. Mostly one. WHY?

(And while you're thinking about this, go read one of my favorite posts from Not Just Cute - Intention Deficit Disorder.)

Sometimes I Just Don't Fit In

Sometimes I feel like a lid in a block tower.

Do you ever feel as if you just don't fit? That somewhere along the line, you missed an important memo that gave the "rules" for what to do or how to be?

I feel like that at times. After all, I'm a guy in the early childhood world - a place that is filled with women. I just don't fit at times.

And I'm a teacher that doesn't mind a little chaos in the classroom. I enjoy lots of activity. I don't mind trying something new. I like when kids are talking about what they are doing. When kids are moving around out of their seats. I like playing a little "loud music" and dancing once in a while. But when I was in the elementary school, I would get looks and remarks about the things I did. I just don't fit in at times.

Think about a child in a classroom who feels like that. Maybe he wants to stand up while reading or working. Maybe she would like an opportunity to draw instead of write. Maybe clapping or jumping or stacking blocks would help them grasp addition more than using numerals on a board. Maybe he just wants to be heard, to be considered, to hear the teacher say maybe.

What about those kids?

When I become an elementary classroom teacher, I wanted to think about those kids. I wanted to provide an opportunity for them to do a few outside the box things from time to time (or more often if possible). I didn't succeed as well as I had hoped.

Now I'm not teaching in an elementary school. I'd like to go back, but it hasn't happened yet. But I think about those kids. I wonder about them. I would like another chance to help them learn in some different ways.

And I try to think about that with my church kindergarten classroom. I try to give them some control. I encourage them to think of what to do rather than just tell them what I think they should do. I want learning to be discovery and exploration and (sometimes) failure.

I think about the one who just doesn't fit in at times. And I wonder - should we try to require them to change and fit in. Or should we be trying to broaden our definition of "fitting in."

I think the learning environment can be broader. I think it must be broader so more kids can excel and grow and learn and be ready for the future world.

Otherwise, the world is going to become a really monotonous place.

The Comparison Game

It's back to school time here. Teachers and kids are headed back to the classroom this week!

As I think about teachers and a new year, I think about my four-year-old friend from VBS this summer. He told me on the last day: "You are the best Mr. Scott ever!"

That's what I want to be - the best Mr. Scott ever - the best I can be as a teacher.

Too often we teachers fall into the comparison game. "My room doesn't look like hers." "His kids are so much quieter walking in the hall." "Her kids are all learning faster than my class."

This is a dangerous game. I know. I've done it. I still do it from time to time.

But guess what? I shouldn't try to beat someone at their game. I should be the best teacher I can be. That means being the teacher that meets my personality and skills.

I am not a decorating teacher. My room will never have color-coordinated borders and signs and chair pockets. It's not me. (If that's you, great!) My room is usually much more low-key and will feature kids' work or charts we've made or other related things.

My room is usually a little noisy and a little messy. We sometimes have dance breaks. We'll read a book together from  a Web site. We may do things in a little crazy way.

But that's me.

I don't need to try and be like someone else. I can learn from other teachers and gain valuable ideas. I can also choose to do something in a completely different way.

And what's interesting in all this. I never expect the other teachers to be like me. I don't expect teachers to have a dance party in the middle of math time.

But I often chastise myself for not being like them. Crazy, huh?

So this new school year, plan to give yourself a break. Do the best you can with what you have and what you know at the time.

Care about the children. Look for ways to put their needs first. (Yes, even ahead of those standards!)

In a month or a semester or a year, compare yourself to who you were. Are you growing as a teacher? Are you learning new things? Is today better than yesterday?

That's how you win the comparison game.

Two Things that Make Me Cringe

My nemesis

Do you have any particular activities or supplies that you just avoid? Things that other early childhood teachers may embrace or celebrate but that make you cringe when you think of them? I do.

Last week I taught in a four-year-old Vacation Bible School class and was confronted by my old nemesis - glitter. We were making ocean bottles and my lead teacher set out a container of glitter to use (with other materials). I pushed it aside and no one saw it for a while. Then one boy wanted to add some to his bottle - and of course everyone else did, too. I did my best to clean the funnel but I think there's still some clinging to it, sparkling away. I did get it all off my hands. Eventually.

Then, today I was skimming through posts online and I came to this post. I was immediately reminded of the other activity that I continually avoid as much as possible. Spray bottle painting. (I can hardly type the words!) A few years ago, we did this little gem and I vowed then that I wouldn't do it again. And I haven't yet. We put liquid watercolors in small spray bottles. Kids sprayed the paint onto paper at the easel. And created puddles on the floor. And saturated paper so much that I could barely peel the paper from the easel. (I'm sure some of those are still drying somewhere in a teenager's house.) My easel still has flecks of green and blue paint embedded in the sides.

But I'm reminded that not all activities or materials are desirable to all teachers - or all kids. I often do things that other adults have said, "I would never...." I have had kids refuse to do something - for whatever reason. I once had a two-year-old who refused to do anything that would get his hands dirty. He once touched a small pile of shaving cream with his palm and immediately had to wash off the pin-sized spot from his hand.

We must be respectful. If a teacher doesn't feel comfortable with an activity, it's okay. Even if that activity is our favorite one. It's okay. I should not impose my "love" for something on someone who doesn't really care for it. Too many times (especially online) I see judgments or unkind words hurled back and forth over a particular material or activity. I'm glad to help an unsure teacher know the best way to do something. But it's not my place to try to force someone to do something he doesn't want to do.

And that includes kids. I can encourage. I can offer. I can modify. But, ultimately, if I force a child to get his hands dirty when he doesn't want to do so, all I've taught him is that I'm bigger and can "make him" do things. He won't enjoy it or learn from it. I should use all that energy in learning what he enjoys and finding ways to encourage those interests and explorations.

And, yes, I'm Team NoGlitter forever!

Problem Solving in Action

I've been reading and hearing a lot lately about 21st century skills and what we want kids to learn in schools these days. At the top of the list is problem-solving. We want kids to develop skills to confront problems and work out solutions.

However, kids usually don't develop these skills by only learning facts, completing worksheets, or taking tests. They learn these skills by experimenting and investigating. By playing with different types of materials. By DOING.

Recently I watched a boy work through a problem in his building activity. One end of his structure was shorter than the other. He worked through ideas until he found a solution.

Blocks and other types of play-based activities are available in many preschool classrooms. But many classrooms in elementary school (even kindergarten classrooms) don't have these. Experiential, hands-on learning has been replaced with other academic pursuits. 

I love using blocks and other manipulatives in different ways. Presenting a challenge and watching kids figure out what to do can yield lots of learning. 

I'm finishing up my university studies and looking for what's next. Seeing my friend explore and experiment has confirmed that I want to include that "playing" into my classroom - whatever age I teach. I can see preschoolers or kindergartners or first graders investigating how to solve problems and learning so much in the process. 

I'm not sure yet where I'll be or how this will play out. But I cannot wait to see what these future learning investigators will uncover.

How have you seen problem-solving in action? 

Loud Doll Play

Dolls in bunk beds

The other day in my church kindergarten class, I said something that I haven't said before. At least I cannot remember saying it before.

"Boys, the doll play is too loud."

A group of boys were playing with the dolls in lots of different ways. And things kept getting louder and louder until it was too loud.

As I reflected later and laughed at saying this, I realized that this statement reflects a lot of our expectations in the classroom.

1. Materials should be flexible and able to be used in different ways. The dolls have been used in lots of ways before. But these boys were exploring different ways to use the dolls. After all, we don't often have the dolls sleeping in bunk beds.

2. Imagination and new ideas (the kids' usually but mine sometimes) are crucial in learning. I walked over to the play at one moment. The plastic placemats were folded and lying on the table. The boys were pushing the dolls' faces into the placemats. "Tell me what is happening," I said (extremely curious and a little concerned). "The babies are eating cheese," they explained.

3. Choice is important. The boys dominated play with the dolls on this particular day. Other times, the girls are using the dolls and boys are elsewhere. Sometimes boys and girls work together. Other times they are completely separate (at their own choice). Some children play independently; others are moving to wherever a group congregates. Interest and preference leads kids to choose what to do.

4. Who you are doesn't limit what you can do. Boys and girls all use dolls, tools, cars, pencils, books, paint, and puzzles equally. All the kids move to dramatic play activities, art activities, construction activities.

5. Each person is responsible for his or her actions. I don't mind loud. I don't mind messy. But if a child snips paper and creates a lot of scraps, that child is responsible for cleaning up those scraps. If play gets too loud, the kids are responsible for adjusting play or changing play to modify the sound level (and not disturb others in and outside the classroom).

The doll play settled down. Still a little rowdy. Still a little loud (but not too loud). And, eventually, quieted to reading books together.

Reading together

That's why I love being in an early childhood classroom. Things are fluid. Things are always moving. And I am always learning new ways to use familiar stuff.

Sometimes I think I learn as much (or more) than they do.

Teaching "By Ear"

Want to see what we did for this painting? Go here and here.

This piece of art hangs in my office. I love it. I recently saw a Jackson Pollack painting in a museum; I think this one rivals that painting. It was done by 6-year-olds.

This painting represents one of my all-time favorite activities I did with kids. I love this more than anything else we've ever done.

And I've done it with a sum total of one class of kids. I've never repeated it.

I've been thinking a lot about philosophy and the way I teach. I think the best phrase that sums up what I do is this: I teach by ear...or by feel.

When you play music by ear, you don't use print music; you just play by how the notes sound. The sound tells you if you are doing it "right" or not.

I think my teaching is a lot like that. I choose activities and say things by what sounds or feels right for the class. In my second grade class last year, we did some learning on the move. I've worked with classes that could not handle that particular activity and I wouldn't have tried it with them. Or at least would have done it in a different way.

Some things I do all the time. I always use glue guns with every group of kids (since the first time I've done it). We always use the steering wheel or the large magnet board. Other activities I don't repeat as much.

I've not repeated the painting activity because it hasn't "felt" right. Other groups of kids I've had since didn't seem a right "fit" for that particular activity. I can't say why. Maybe it was me and not them. Maybe that activity wasn't a right fit for me at that time in my teaching life.

(To tell the truth, I've not even thought about the fact that I haven't repeated this activity until I began pondering the other day and this post began to form in my mind.)

When I teach, I think about what I want kids to learn. I think of concepts or standards or facts or whatever meets the particular teaching moment I'm involved in. I think about development and interests and skills and temperament.

But mostly I think about what seems right - what sounds or feels right for this group of kids at this moment.

I don't know what that means. Maybe it means I'm not a "real" teacher or a less professional one. Maybe it means I'm less effective or more effective. It doesn't make any difference in the long run.

I do know that if things feel right, if I'm teaching to meet the group of kids I have, everyone seems happier and more engaged. And I'll take that.

(P.S. - I think we may be trying this large painting on canvas with this current group of kids. It feels right.)

Knowing vs Understanding

I love fall. It has become much more interesting to me since I moved to Tennessee several years ago.

In my former home, the trees didn't really change color or do that cool autumn thing. Sometime in mid-November or so all the leaves would turn brown. One day (or night) a wind would blow through and all the leaves would be off of the trees. That's it. (A comedian said that you would hear a loud WHUMP one night and the leaves were off the trees the next morning.)

Then we moved to Nashville. Our first October here we saw trees begin to change to yellows and oranges and reds. My wife and I would drive around town, looking for colorful trees. "Look at that one!" we would practically shout at one another. Such wonderful color.

As I drove home the other day and saw a variety of colors in the background, I thought about that first fall here. I still love to see the trees change. I still smile at the bright yellows and oranges.

You see, I knew about fall. The leaves change colors. They flutter to the ground. People rake piles of leaves. Kids play in them. They get everywhere. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I saw the calendars and photos. I knew what fall was.

But then I experienced it. I saw trees change - first a few leaves and then more and then the entire tree. I now pick leaves from the windshield of my truck and watch them blow out from the bed as I drive down the road. I think about raking them...and then don't. I now understand what fall really is, at least more than I did before.

That reminded me of teaching kids. We can tell kids information. Kids can know facts. They can tell us all kinds of things. But do they understand what they know? How can we help them understand it? They must experience it.

They must see butterflies emerge. They must mix red and blue to get shades of purple. They must connect those odd shapes to sounds - understanding that those letters make their names. They must have context. They must experience it.

Do your kids know? Or do they understand?

What do you do to get kids to experience and learn? How do you make it hands on?

Context

Last week in our class, we had small colored cube blocks with our regular blocks. Our builders began to work.

Watching them reminded me of the importance of context to the classroom.

And I remembered how much of an impact the kids' own knowledge, experience, and interests bring to the learning activity.

Kids interact with materials and ideas, filtering it through what they already know and connecting it into their overall knowledge.

Looking at all those great constructions, I think about what I could talk about. Patterns, symmetry, shapes, colors. I listen as the kids tell me elaborate stories about what's happening (and we develop vocabulary and concepts about character and plot).

The information or activity or concept must be meaningful to the kids. It must connect to what they already know. It must have context (to the child) to be valuable and meaningful. 

The best way to learn about letters? Names! That has some meaning and context and helps the child identify these different squiggles/symbols to a concrete concept. (I posted about names a while back.)

The best way to master number sense? Objects! A child understands what "3" means by handling three items. He begins to make connections between numbers (and addition and subtraction) by putting groups of items together or taking them apart.

The best way to begin to read? Known Words! Use words that a child already recognizes (restaurant and store names, traffic signs, food labels). Those words are meaningful to the child and he will begin to recognize them - both as logos and in regular print. (Check out this post from Pre-K Pages about environmental print.)

I want to create a learning environment that builds on what kids know and creates connections for other concepts.

(Plus I really like blocks!)

A Room for Learning

I've been thinking a lot this week. Well, for the past several weeks. I've been thinking about what I think is essential in a classroom. I've been pondering my philosophy and what that means to the environment and the things I do. This week in my church class of kindergartners, I watched a new group of kids explore the classroom. My observations reminded me of important things for my classroom.

Flexibility - the room, the activities, the teacher should adjust and change with the interests, abilities, strengths of the kids

As I posted previously, this group of kids loved building. I will certainly look for ways to incorporate construction and blocks in lots of things we do. One boy asked if I had "play guys" (people). Guess what we'll need to have this week in the blocks center?

Adaptability - the activities should adapt to use by individual kids

We almost always have easel painting. I saw 5 kids work at the easel and 5 different ways to approach painting with red and blue paint. One boy enjoyed creating layers - red, then blue, then red - and watching the color adjust from distinct colors to a blended purply swirl. He covered the entire paper with his swirls of color. A girl carefully made alternating stripes of color. She didn't mix the colors but kept the vertical columns distinct. Kids can use the paint at the easel to do what they choose.

Choice - the kids have the power to do something or not do something

This week I saw our writing center, usually a popular place for kids, sit fallow for most of the time. Then one boy ventured over to examine the paper and decided to do something. He drew "a maze." I've sometimes planned something that I thought would be lots of fun - and the kids ignore it. But that's okay. They are making the choice.


How does this translate into a school classroom? Kids often need to do things that they wouldn't choose or that's not their favorite thing to do. But I still see the need to incorporate learning experiences that allow some choice, flexibility, and adaptability. Kids learn more and enjoy it more when they have some say in what they do.

One week with these new kindergartners and I'm already thinking a lot. It's going to be a fun and busy year.