Thinking Beyond Yourself

Preschoolers are very self-focused. That's just who they are. They see the world from their own perspective and struggle with seeing it from the viewpoint of others. As they get older, they develop more understanding of others and empathy with them. It's always exciting to see young children thinking about others and the ideas and preferences beyond their own.

Recently we were making cards for our mothers (or someone else). We had markers and stickers, just your regular preschool art materials. Of course, as preschoolers work, I talk with them.

As always seems the case in these circumstances, we began to talk about colors. I made a comment about a color someone was using. And then comments about colors began to zoom around the table. One boy talked about a color he liked. "I like that color, too," I commented.

Another boy said, "I like all the colors. Except yellow."

"Really," I said. "Why don't you like yellow?" He shrugged and kept drawing.

"Sometimes yellow is hard to use," I said. "It doesn't always show up when we draw with it."

Another child patiently explained to me how to make yellow show up on the paper. (You mark with it over and over in the same place.) Our conversation moved on to other things.

I walked around the table, looking at the things that the children were doing, as we finished our cards. I came back to the first boy and looked at the rainbow he drew. "Wow," I said, "you used all the colors in your rainbow." I pointed at a line. "You used yellow, too, even though you don't like it."

He looked up at me and replied in his most patient voice. "My mom likes yellow."

I had to smile. "Oh, I see. Your mother likes yellow so you used it on your drawing. That's very smart to think about who will get your card and use things she likes."

I love to see my kids grow. I love that my friend thought about what his mother would like and used that on his card for her instead of what he would like. Letting kids explore their own ideas helps them develop in their own natural ways - and show you that growth through their work and play.

What If Thinking

The other day I was playing a game with a group of 4 year olds. We had cards with animal pictures. We were sorting into three groups - those with fur, those with feathers, and those without fur or feathers. Why were we doing this?

Well, my primary reason was that it was the first activity of the session and I needed something to do as kids arrived. Children could easily join this activity while it was in progress. I could quickly explain what was going on, and kids were immediately engaged in something when they arrived so they wouldn’t be left to their own devices.

We were doing this because our focus for this year is the world God made and thinking about animals relates to that overall focus.

We were sorting animals because grouping things into sets is a good math skill. And thinking about similarities and differences is good foundational thinking for literacy comprehension and science/social studies thinking later on.

And we were doing it because it’s a fun thing to do together, building community and camaraderie.

As we were going through the activity, I heard myself asking questions, not preplanned questions just spontaneous ones. The questions started off helping clarify thinking as kids sorted: “Does a bear have feathers?” Then the questions sharpened a little as some differences of opinion came up: “Does a zebra have fur? What is on the outside of a zebra’s body? Is that smooth hair a kind of fur?”

When things came to these types of fine distinctions, I let the child who drew the card decide. A cow has a hide but is that fur? Does the cow picture go in the fur column or the neither column? In the spirit of compromise, we decided to put the card between the two columns.

This seemingly simple sorting activity began to generate some higher level thinking skills, some refinement to the this, this, or this nature of what we were doing.

I began to ask other questions as we went along: “If a fish had feathers, would it be able to swim under the water easily?” The kids giggled at the thought of a feathered fish. But they thought about and talked about what might happen if there were feathers on a trout.

After we sorted all the cards, the kids wanted to go again. This time we sorted into two groups: “I would want one” and “I would not want one.” A more subjective sort. The child drawing the card would decide if he would want one of those animals living at his house or not. I didn’t really ask questions (except would you want one of these or not) but I did narrate as we played. “He would not want a lizard. She would want a cat.”

But thinking was still going on. When a boy placed the cow in “would not” column, I said, “He would not want a cow.” A girl spoke up: “But if you lived on a farm….”

“Yes,” I said, “if you lived on a farm, you may want a cow. But if you live in a regular house it would be difficult to have a cow there.”

I’ve seen this type of activity in worksheet format. Students draw lines or print words to sort categories. I’ve even seen where the items are cut out and glued into the appropriate space. Is it the same activity? Would the same type of learning and thinking occur?

It could. After all, most of the thinking occurred as a result of our conversation not the activity itself. Those conversations could still take place while kids are doing a worksheet. But in playing our game, the focus was on one animal at a time and everyone was thinking about the same one at the same time. In worksheets, even in directed practice, some kids are thinking about the current one, others are lagging behind, and still others are racing to be done. The same dynamic would not be in play.

I can see how play - the game - leads to better thinking and learning than the worksheet. But the most important factor is engagement. Teachers and kids working together, thinking together, talking together. Often there is too little of this in the classroom.

Curse of Knowledge

For more about the Curse of Knowledge, see Made to Stick by Chip and Dan Heath

Once you know, you cannot unknow. You cannot put yourself in the place of someone who doesn't have the knowledge that you have gained.

We build our knowledge and understanding upon what we've experienced plus insights (from those experiences). If kids haven't had experiences or built previous knowledge, they cannot understand. And they don't grasp understanding just because we've "explained" it.

The Thinking Behind the Knowing

On my bookshelf is a picture of one of my first grade friends. (Well, he's not in first grade now.) His picture is there to remind me of many things as a teacher. But recently it's been reminding me about learning, knowing, and what lies beneath it. 

It was a day in first grade that I will not forget. My student struggled to understand and I struggled to help. 

For a while in our math lessons, we had been practicing single digit addition. We were working on becoming fluent...at least some of us were working on that. Others of us were working on really understanding the concept of addition. I sat with my friend, working through some addition practice. We had worked through several addition problems until we hit a wall. My friend was struggling with adding zero.

I pointed to the problem (because, you know, pointing at it makes it so much more understandable). I asked: "What is 7 plus 0?"

My friend stared at it and then looked up at me with his large dark eyes: "8?" he asked in a voice full of hope.

Thus began our great odyssey. We drew pictures of the problem. He drew them; I drew them. We pulled out counters with the problem. He manipulated them; I manipulated them. We looked at a number line. We tried all kinds of different ways, creating visual and mental representations of the problem.

I heard the frustration and dismay in his voice. I felt my own frustration grow, frustration not at him but at my inability to help him. Each time his answer would be 8 or 9 or 10. I couldn't fatham what his thinking was and he couldn't voice it enough for me to know. Then a light dawned. I don't know what we were doing at this point, drawing or counting or what, but he sat up a little bit and said tentatively, "7?"

"Yes!" I said (hopefully not too loudly). I immediately wrote down another problem with 0 and we were at it again. A hesitant guess and then the correct one. We did several. We talked that adding 0 was easy because the quantity didn't change. My friend worked on through his math practice until it was time to do something else.

Of course, we reinforced the next day and so forth. But that's not the point of this story.

I sat thinking about my friend - at the end of that day and through other days. I talked with other teachers but they mostly just nodded and said that they were glad he got it.

Then...from somewhere...I got a thought. Every time we approached a problem with 0, his first guess would be a slightly higher number. (He did this every time until he got the "rule" about 0.) I wondered if he had developed an understanding about addition--that whenever you added, the answer would be a higher number. Was that the thinking behind his understanding of addition?

It makes sense; it's usually true, especially in kindergarten and first grade. Was his expectation that if there's a plus sign the number would go up? If so, no wonder he struggled with this 0 business.

I also thought about my frustration. And I was reminded about something I read in the book "Made to Stick" by Chip and Dan Heath. They write about the "Curse of Knowledge." Once you learn something it is impossible to put yourself in the mindset of someone who doesn't know it. It is impossible to think like someone who doesn't know. 

Sometimes I think we adults forget this as we teach and talk to young kids. We say something, explain something - and expect that they know it. We draw a logical conclusion because it's logical to us; we have lots of stuff in our head and the conclusion just makes sense. But those young children don't have all that stuff in their heads. They will believe us because we are the adults but they may not understand it. They may form an alternative understanding about it that makes sense to them - and that they'll have to unlearn later.

In our classrooms (both younger and older), let's think about what we are doing and saying. Let's listen more than we talk so we can understand what children know and how they are thinking. Let's not just assume that something is easily understandable because it makes sense to us. Let's remember that we cannot put ourselves completely in the new learner's shoes.

Let's encourage exploring and playing. Let's help children construct a real and true understanding of concepts. Let's help build the thinking that lies underneath the knowing.

Fertilizing Brain Growth

quoted in Wait! What Happened to Recess?

Using play helps develop brain growth and thinking. What can you do to help children grow their thinking and knowledge?

The Process

from Learning Is Messy

Allow children to explore. Be ready for the messy work or messy thinking or messy questions that go with learning. Don't push for the end; enhance the journey.

Learning Is Messy

I was reading Show Your Work by Austin Kleon. It's a good book for thinking about creativity and being successful in it. I enjoy the book (and Steal Like an Artist) because it is as much visual as it is text. Even a lot of the text is done in a visual way. That works great for someone like me, who remembers things better when he sees them.

As I read through the book, I came across this page. (I photographed the page.)

from Show Your Work, Kleon

It resonated with me. I'm always thinking about kids' process - it's more important than any product or result. The process is the learning. And the process is messy. Learning is messy.

I'm not sure most teachers or leaders are ready for the messiness of learning. Messiness doesn't fit well in a standardized setting. Learning - in play or a maker space or experimentation - isn't a neat and tidy undertaking.

Ideas are tried. Failure happens. Parts are discarded. New parts are crafted.

That process happens even if the learning is mostly mental. When reading and truly comprehending, this process happens. A reader will understand through his own background experience, discard a previous understanding because it just doesn't work, fashion new understanding through what he's reading or what's being said by fellow readers, and construct new learning on the spot.

That's messy. That takes time. It takes more than a quick session with the class as the teacher completes a graphic organizer. It may mean backing up and trying again. It may mean that detours are needed. It may mean that the "planned" learning needs to take a backseat to what is being developed on the spot by the learners.

The process is messy. We need to recognize it. We need to be prepared for it. We need to stop ignoring it.

True Possibilities

I learn more and more about what's possible by paying attention to my kids. They are truly creative and outside-the-box thinkers.

Visible, Permanent, Public Thinking

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


Chapter 4: Creating Classroom Cultures that Support and Promote Student Thinking


Debbie Miller is still writing about environment in this chapter, but she has moved from the physical environment to the culture within the classroom. She writes that we must consider three things regarding creating this type of culture: putting our own thinking on display, using language intentionally, and making student thinking visible and public and permanent.

As teachers we must make our thinking more visible. We must show our own curiosity and interest in things in the world and in the things we read. We must show that we are open to alternate ideas. We can show that we are continuing to think about what we read or heard in class and that we even wonder if what we heard or read is true. We can show that we do further reading to find out if what we understand is right. Creating this type of culture is more than just doing a lot of different things or planning for specific "reflective" statements. We must be present, in the moment, and responding and reflecting in real time. That can be challenging but leads kids to do the same.

When engaging students in their thinking, we should intentionally choose our words to encourage more thinking. Questions or statements should show support and encourage further thinking and comment. Saying things like these can encourage and support students:

• Say more about that.
• This is what I think I heard you say. Do I have it right?
• I never thought about it like that before! Tell me more about what led you to think in this way.
• What do you think you should do next?
• What is another way to think about this?
• How did you figure this out?

We should also look for ways to make thinking more public and permanent. Write down what students say about topics; use their exact words. Post the thinking on anchor charts or quotes on the wall. Keep thinking visible for all students to encourage more and deeper thinking.

Several things that Debbie wrote in this chapter reminded me of my experiences in first and second grade. But the one that really triggered remembering and reflection was about thinking aloud. Thinking is largely invisible. "I think that thinking aloud about our thinking is he best way to make thinking visible," Debbie writes. 

I remember reading about think alouds in my teacher's guide for reading instruction. I really did think it was silly and uncomfortable. But as I did it and thought about it, I also realized that kids don't know what I'm doing or what other readers are doing when reading. Instead of just telling them to  think about they are reading or asking them what is confusing, I can show them. I can say, "I'm confused about this part. I'm not sure what is happening. I am going to read it again to see if I can understand what the character is doing."

Some kids are better at reflecting on what they are doing. Some are better at talking about their thinking. Some are quick to understand what's going on. Some don't know what they don't know.

Making thinking more visible, intentionally talking about thinking in ways that encourage more thinking, and displaying thinking publicly and permanently can create a place where kids will think and reflect and talk more about what they are reading and wondering. When thinking (or anything) is valued, it will be repeated.

Add Ons in the Blocks Center

I've blogged before about adding a variety of things to the blocks center. One of my favorite things is to add things to the blocks and see what happens, see what the kids will do. The results are always interesting. And sometimes my experiments fail.

This week we added fabric swatches and our set of random wood pieces to the center.

I commented that we were talking about King Saul and the kids may want to build a palace. That was my only contribution and it was a the beginning of the session.

As usual, kids used the wood pieces to explore. Several threaded the spools on the dowels and experimented with what they could do.

Others just played with the pieces. Or they built buildings that incorporated the pieces.

We have used paper pieces with blocks but haven't used fabric swatches often. I was interested to see what would happen. (These fabric swatches are from a swatch book discarded by interior designers; I'm not sure where I picked it up.)

Some kids felt the fabric. Some covered up parts of their buildings or incorporated a piece of fabric in their structures.

One decided to spread out the pieces.

She found pieces that were similar in color. She created a pleasing arrangement. Then she moved on.

Creativity exists in all kinds of forms. Often we may discount the thinking and creativity in these types of experiences because they are temporary (instead of permanent like most art explorations).

But every time kids explore in these ways, they learn more about the world. They solve problems and create questions. They develop their thinking skills.

And there's nothing temporary about those things.

Something Magical

I think there's something almost magical about the way a young child's mind works. Being a part of that magic is one of the things I love about teaching and learning with young kids.

This week we had a game out on the table. (Roll the cube; turn over a card. Roll again and turn another one. Do they match?)

One girl played the game for a time. "You can just look for matches, too," I said. She adapted the game to turn over one card and then roll to find that match.

I sat to play the game with her. In a few minutes, she said, "Let's build a house."

"With the cards?" I asked. She nodded.

We began to try to make a house with the cards. She mentioned that she liked to make card houses with her dad. Then she said, "Maybe we need something to help hold it." She began to use the cube as a support.

We tried several different things. Sometimes things worked. Sometimes they didn't.

"I wonder if blocks would help?" I said. She looked thoughtful. Then she gathered a few blocks and brought them to the table. We both did several different things with the blocks and cards. Another friend came to investigate.

I left the table to move around the room. Mrs. Cindy sat nearby, talking and monitoring.

The girls started to bring more blocks to the table. "Let's move the blocks to the floor," Mrs. Cindy said. "You can build there."

"Can we take the cards?" the girls asked.

They built a lot, not using the cards much but keeping them close at hand.

I love the way kids think about things, pull in their own past experiences, take in suggestions and modify their thinking, and just try things without worrying about success.

I saw cards fall and fall and fall. (Both my attempts and hers.) But we kept going.

I hope in our educational world of testing and college/career preparation and lots of drilling...I hope we don't lose the magic that is kids' thinking and investigation. That magic is important to our future.

Independent Thinkers

What do you do in your classroom to foster independent thinkers?

"What Do We Do Here?"

A question I've been hearing a lot in my church kindergarten class - "What do we do here?"

A child will walk up to a table or to an area on the floor with materials and ask that question.

My thinking: make a "nighttime" picture

My past answer: "When I put these things out, I thought you might _____, but you may want to do something else."

My new answer: "Look at the materials. What do you think you might do with these?"

Drawing before cutting

I've written before about my agenda vs the kids' agenda or encouraging kids to use their own ideas.

My church kindergarten classroom is a pretty open-ended place. You can choose to use the materials in just about any way you choose - within safety limits and "infringement" limits (not disturbing someone else's work).

The pen (for writing names) becomes part of the experience.

So why do I get this question so often? I think it's an expectation from their school classroom.

Teachers put out materials and tell kids how to use them. (This is just my logical conclusion from my experiences with these kids--and those from past years.)

Cutting, gluing, then a plan emerges

I hear a lot about critical thinking and creativity. It seems I need to encourage [some] kids to exercise that creativity or practice thinking about how to use materials.

I'm always amazed at the ideas that kids have. And the way they express their thinking. And the different ways they can use a group of simple materials.

"They put a stop sign because there's a shark."

I'll keep putting out a variety of stuff. And hoping they will show me new ways to use it.

Change Ahead

I've always thought of myself as an optimistic person. And I guess I am in public. When challenges arise, I look for the positive outcomes. When I see a child's behavior, I look for the great among the "not so great" behaviors.  For example, last year I told people, "My kids are so social. They like to talk about what they are doing." (Instead of saying, "Those kids will not be quiet!") And I meant it. I think it's great that kids want to talk about things and share their experiences.

But - inside - I often become a pessimist. Well, I say I'm practical. If something is changing, let's look for ways to be prepared for the worst. Note exactly a bad thing...but it can affect my overall attitude. This year we have a new principal. The principal who brought be to my new first grade adventure last year has been moved to a new school. In addition, he was a friend before he was my principal. Now we have a new one. And I'm worried...or...I'm thinking about possibilities under this change. What if the new principal doesn't like me or what I'm doing? What if she decides not to keep me on next year? (See, the year hasn't even started yet and I'm wondering about next year.)

This "practical" view of things can affect my work, or at least attitude toward what I'm doing. I am looking forward to a new year with (yes) a few changes - based on what I learned in my first year. I'm feeling more confident as a teacher of first graders. I really can't wait to see those kids in my classroom. But the inner dialogue of what "might happen" keeps intruding on that excitement.

So I want to change...change my thinking, change my self-talk. I've been working on seeing the great opportunities instead of pitfalls. Oh, I want to be prepared for whatever may come. But that doesn't mean that I need to dwell on these possibilities. I am going to have a fun and exciting year. (And if the new principal doesn't want me to come back next year, I'll deal with that in May. And look forward to the opportunities that may come with any future change.)

(This post is a part of #kinderblog13.)

Listen: My Amazing Kids

My word for this year is LISTEN. I'm working on listening and responding as I teach and learn.

As I began this year of listening, I knew I would want to listen to all kinds of voices. After all, if I'm going to learn, I need to hear from all kinds of sources. In that first post, one source I listed was the kids themselves. I've been trying to listen to them. They've told me they like to move. They've told me that I sometimes spend too long on something. They've told me that I can be a pretty good teacher on some days. (Usually they tell me these things through their actions not words.)

Today we began our science unit on solids and liquids. My district sends us science kits to use - kits with teaching plans and all the stuff you need. It's great. Today I paired the kids up - each pair got a tray with a steel ball and a plastic spoon.

The pairs explored their two items and discussed how the items were alike and different. I made a chart so we could discuss their ideas.

As I listened to them and their ideas, I was amazed. My kids continue to surprise me. I love all of the differences they listed. We started with these, since it was easier.

"spoon is flat; ball is round" - Listening to him talk, I think he was trying to talk about the spoon being more 2-dimensional and the ball 3-dimensional. We added "sphere" as we discussed.

"You can see what you are wearing..." - The ball was very reflective, almost like a mirror. In the spoon, you could see yourself but you were blue since the spoon was blue.

Some really great ideas!

Then we moved on to similarities. Again, their ideas really surprised me.

"spin" - With a little torque, both will spin on a table.

"noise" - If you drop them, they will both make sounds. (The ball is much louder.)

"zero points" - No corners; both are curved/rounded.

And - for the record - they said "solid," not me. I have introduced the concept to them.


In recent days, as I have the great fortune to listen to their ideas, they have surprised me several times.

We were reading a story in our reading books. We were discussing how illustrations help us better understand the text. One girl said, "And we can make an inference. He didn't tell us about this but we can look at the illustration and make an inference." Wow. Someone was listening in recent weeks when we talked about inferences. Wow.

We read a story about bugs "hiding in plain sight," blending to match rocks or leaves or other surroundings so they would be safer. As we talked, I asked what we could learn about bugs from this particular story. A few kids said things about bugs hiding and so forth. Someone said, "Some bugs use camouflage." Wow. I commented on such a great word. Later, in writing about bugs, several kids wrote about bugs camouflaging themselves. Of course we had several variations on the spelling - but I got it. Wow.

My kids are amazing. Listening to them helps me see how they are thinking. And I continue to be amazed that I get to be with them every day. What a lucky guy I am!

Again and Again

What do you do when you learn a new skill? Or when you know you've mastered something? 

Do you want to do it again and again? Just to show you can. Or show it to all your friends.

Do it again to make sure you remember how to do it just right?

Experiment a little, adding some new elements to your achievement?

Sometimes you just like to do the same thing again...to keep your skills honed.

You never know when that skill may become useful.

(I watched this boy repeatedly build his blocks in a line and knock them down. Day after day. Around what the other kids were doing. Sometimes he would build something else. But he always went back to this familiar--and really cool--construction.)

Inventiveness

I walked over to the table where boys were working. Using play dough, rolling pins, and a few letter cookie cutters. I saw some letters laying on the table, to one side.

"B, did you spell a word?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"What is the word?"

"Ooey."

I found his inventiveness really impressive. Especially the letter Os. We didn't have an O cookie cutter on the table. So B created his own. He used the letter P...and hung the tail off the side of his play dough  to create the O.

Kids always amaze me - their inventiveness and creativity seems to know no limits. A little play and a little independence lets them continue to invent and create.

And I hope that, by hanging out with them, I can capture some of that inventiveness for myself.

The Puzzle

We have a puzzle in our room that's a fairly straight-forward puzzle, as puzzles usually are. At least that's what I thought.

Four kids in a line. Take out the pieces and put them back in. At least that's what I thought.

But you can create new configurations of kids. Different unusual kids.

And you can create a really, really tall (and really, really odd) person.

Oh, the howls of laughter when we create these different people.

These are the wonderful surprises that I love to see when teaching young kids. These are the "paychecks" I get. I love it when kids think outside the box (or outside the puzzle frame, literally, in this case). Exploration and play are so important to helping kids see possibilities and try out ideas.

Sometimes I talk with teachers who seem a little afraid of free play and choices and kids' explorations. They want a more structured (and secure for them) atmosphere. I get that. I don't want things out of control or crazy or chaotic.

But kids all doing exactly the same thing at exactly the same time means I miss an artistic moment. Or a two-story structure. Or a really, really tall person.

And a calm and quiet classroom isn't worth missing those things. At least that's what I think.