All posts by onathought

#sol14 March 7 A Different Kind of Chalkabration

March 8, 2014Slice of Lifeonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

My 7 year old son is a scientist. He is creative, curious and very focused. Often, he is singularly focused. One of the things he’s been interested in lately is crushing sidewalk chalk. “Because,” as he explained to me, “Once you wet it with water, it will be like paint.” A few days ago he spent some time outside crushing sidewalk chalk with a butter knife. Yesterday he complained that the knife method wasn’t really efficient enough.

“You know what would be perfect? . . . Can I use the coffee grinder?” he asked.

I try so hard not to say no right away, or without reason, but this seemed like an appropriate time for a “No.”

“Why?”

Sometimes I really have to think of the reasons. “It isn’t really safe, the chalk will make a mess, and it might break the coffee grinder, or at the very least leave a chalk residue on the coffee maker.”

To give him credit, he tried to understand. But, his focus couldn’t get away from the idea that a coffee maker would be the perfect tool for his project. My husband quietly reminded me that we do have an old coffee grinder, and with supervision and clean up rules, it might be okay.

And it was.

Old Coffee Grinder, Plastic Tray, started chalk grounds from knife method & little brother to help.

H lets E help, and takes on the role of science teacher.

So glad we used the old coffee grinder. — So glad we used the **old** coffee grinder.

Today while I was at school, more chalk powder was made, and water was added.

“Look!” he said to my husband, “You think it looks like it’s all mixed together, but when I poor it out, you can see tiny pieces of each color.”

I love his observations, his ideas, his curiosity and creativity. . . and one day I’ll miss the mess. (Or, so I tell myself.)

Today's mess was so much bigger than yesterdays, I couldn't bring myself to take a picture. — Today’s mess was so much bigger than yesterdays, I couldn’t bring myself to take a picture.

#sol14 March 6 Granny Time

March 7, 2014Slice of Lifechildhood, grandparentsonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

My childhood memories themselves are slices. I wish I could remember more details- but I know that all of my experiences, whether I remember them or not are part of who I am, and what I know. I have small pebbles of memories. I can close my eyes and see my mom picking me up from preschool, after she dyed her hair. (I was nervous about it, cried I think.) I can remember riding on the back of her motorcycle for the short block home from the babysitter. (Not nervous, just excited.) I can remember waking up in the middle of the night, and calling for my mom and dad, worried about the dark where ghosts and robbers and fire lived.

The memory of my first childhood house comes with unidentifiable senses: It is just a feeling of remembering… a long dark wooden library table, an old couch with the handmade quilt covering the back, the small white kitchen table, the hall closet full of games, my primary-colored room with low bookshelves full of books. My memories are infused with a huge feeling of love. I had a great childhood! I dressed barbies in clothes my mom made for them, and wore a “Little House on the Prairie” dress she made for me. I remember talking to my mom all the time. We must have talked all day, and I know we had special talk time at night when we snuggled cozy before I fell asleep. I’m sure my mom had so much to do, and that she probably wanted to spend some time with my dad. I know that she had shows that she wanted to watch, and work and cleaning and crocheting to do. But she always had time for me. She listened, she told me jokes and stories, sang me songs and taught me all along the way.

As soon as I became a mother, and ever since, I’ve wondered how I can do for my kids what my parents did for me. How can I teach my kids all the important things? How can I reassure them about all their fears, when sometimes I still call my mom and dad for reassurance? How can I give them a childhood full of songs and stories? I’m not at home with my kids for even a fraction of the time my mom was home with me, and I’m certainly not as patient. I am still learning how to sew, and you should see my failed birthday cupcakes!

We live very close to my parents. When people find this out, they usually say some variation of “Wow! Built-in babysitters! So lucky!” This is true. My parents watch my kids not only for date nights, but also in sudden times of urgent need. In fact, just today, in between all the other things she had to do, my mom took my daughter to piano to help our schedule. I am lucky.

At a certain point in time, my mom decided that she wanted to help us during our morning craziness. She comes most mornings, makes breakfast for the kids, helps them get dressed and ready for the day while my husband and I finish packing lunches, getting ready for our day, etc. When people hear this, their “you’re so lucky” exclamations get even louder. I am lucky. I’m lucky because mornings are crazy and any help with breakfasts and socks and shoes and packing schoolbags is heaven sent. But this week, I realized again that the convenience and help isn’t what makes me blessed.

I’m blessed because as I’m getting ready for school, and all the mundaneness that entails, I get to listen as my kids get granny time. She tells them jokes and listens to theirs. She brings them gifts of crocheted hats and scarves and fixes their clothes. She braids my daughters hair (I can’t seem to get the hang of a french braid) and listens to the dreams everyone had the night before. She tells them the same stories of her childhood that I remember her telling me. Through these stories and songs and daily conversations, my kids are getting more than a shadow of my childhood – they are getting a bright link to my childhood. I feel it makes my memories alive for them in a way that wouldn’t be possible without their close connection to my parents. I hope they know how lucky they are.

#sol14 March 5

March 6, 2014Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

I miss my classroom couch.
It was pink and curved like a wide C
My students sank in
to read
to talk
to listen
to watch
to sew
        yes we had sewing circles on that couch

If you haven’t spent your days
in a
       windowless
classroom
you may not understand

I miss my arm chair.
It was old and creaky but soft
and perfect 
for read aloud and mini lessons and deep conversations

If you aren’t
11 or 12
in body or mind 
you may not understand 

I miss my soft rug.
It was huge and it fit a large circle of 25 
sixth graders
and a couple of teachers
greeting each other every morning
and learning together all day

If you haven’t tried to sit quietly and read
and work
or listen 
   and listen 
       and listen 
on a hard chair or floor
you may not understand

that community can be built 

with a couch, a chair and a rug
for workshops
for discussions
for relaxing
             gasp! 
for reading 
for writing
for math
for learning

I miss my couch
                  They made me throw it away
I miss my arm chair
                  They made me throw it away
I miss my rug
                  It disappeared one day

My couch, chair & rug before they were gone.

#sol14 March 4 symbiotic attitudes

March 5, 2014Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

“I sat in a stool yesterday!”

“I’ve been in a stool for a week!”

“Did you change the chart? I was in this chair yesterday.”

This is how literacy began today. Students were so angry about their seating plan. Their anger made me angry at first. After all, I had finally made the new special seat chart because we all felt that it would be more fair than leaving it up to chance and fate. Up until recently, we had an honor system of sitting somewhere you hadn’t sat recently. That “system” didn’t work, and we all decided that we needed something more formal.

Yesterday I asked them if they wanted me to order the chart differently so they didn’t have a stool for several days in a row as we moved our class numbers through the chart, and they said no. But today, today they were unhappy.

All of these recent events and decisions swirled in my mind, as did the literacy plans I had ready to go… and I started my conversation more sharply than necessary. I was annoyed to take this time.

“Tell me what else I can do?” I said with an edge to my voice. And I repeated all that I had done thus far to help them with the fairness of the chart.

Then a hand went up with a suggestion. A good suggestion. I felt my attitude shift. I took a mindful deep breath – and I listened. I listened and we tried the idea. Then another student added an idea, and we tried that. We cut the chart apart, and moved it around the board. More students got involved in the conversation, and the magnet moving. The class nodded in agreement with our work. We had a chart to work with that honestly was better than before.

“We’ve lost all the spots people were in before,” I started, “and if I put these magnets up I’m afraid people will be upset that they have a stool again, or the same chair again. The only way to do this is to randomly place them.”

“It’s okay!”

“We won’t say anything. Just put them up and that’s where we’ll sit.”

“We won’t complain!”

It was startling how our attitudes had shifted. Student complaints fed my annoyance – and when a student was willing to engage in the real task at hand, I was able to break away from my annoyance, and take the edge out of my voice. We found our new chairs, and got down to the business of reading.

The messy work of creating our chair chart!

#sol14 March 3 A slicey day

March 4, 2014Slice of Lifeonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

On my drive to work this morning, as I try desperately to feel warm, I realize that I am noticing my life in “slices.” I watch out the driver’s window as the line of cars drive steadily on: Everyone on a mission. I see the snow – the mounds have shifted farther in from the side of the road. It seems like a foreshadowing of spring.

But, I am cold. This March is a Lioness. My bones are chilled and I can not get warm. I. can. not. get. warm.

I remember second grade. We did a craft about March coming in like a lion, and leaving like a lamb. I don’t know why that project is so vivid for me, but I think the idiom must have felt important. Or else I just liked gluing the cotton ball lambs to my page. This was the same year that I asked my teacher what it was like to be a teacher. I have her response still, framed… but packed away because of our house construction. She said it was fun, and hard work. She said “you need to be ready for the children each day.”

I do need to be ready for my children each day, even this day! So, for the rest of my drive, I go over in my mind the things left on my to do list. I realize I never finished the new seating chart that I told my class I would do. I hope they give me the same lenience I give them on their missing assignments.

Arriving at school, I’m happy not to slip – the ice must really be going away!

My morning goes by with only minimal slice-noticing… Mornings are busy. As I told my students today in response to their asking after math if I had finished the seating chart, “Remember, when you are in math, I’m teaching math!” But lunchtime and lunch duty seem to scream, “Slice! Slice!” So I try to collect a slice of lunch. But all I can notice is the constant sound. I hear parts of conversations, but my turns around the cafeteria mean that I can’t hear enough to commit the conversation to my memory. I wonder if everyone’s memories of middle school lunch period are as indelible as mine. Maybe it’s the smell of cafeteria food, and the clatter of voices that helps me quickly feel like I have travelled through time to my junior high days. I remember trying to find a table to sit at, trying not to do something stupid. . . Lunch duty goes by quickly. I talk to students, make plans for taking them outside, and then I’m greeted with March’s Lion again: Outside for recess. I watch as kids slide on the ice that lines the tetherball court, and run round shooting baskets. I listen to the happy yelling, and try not to freeze.

A slice of recess — This must be how I look when I’m trying not to freeze!

Inside again, I teach, run a meeting, teach some more and exercise. My school day ends and I can pause again only after a pick up at the babysitter, dinner, baths, homework with the 10 year old and bedtime for the kids.

Then I sit at my computer. I remember how it feels to be a student – my assignment is due and even though I’ve been thinking about it for so much of the day, I have no idea what I will write.

#sol14 March 2 “I ran”

March 2, 2014#nerdlution, Slice of Liferunningonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

I know I’ve had a good workout when the soreness starts later that night, and gets worse as the next day goes on. I know I’ve had a really good workout when my friend is also sore enough to text me about it.

I also knew I needed to exercise through the sore. So I whined about it most of the day, trying to figure out what kind of exercise would be the least painful. (I knew for sure I wasn’t doing squats today, for instance!) I finally decided to go on a walk. The snow had stopped, and the temperature was holding steady at a balmy 32 degrees. So I grabbed my sneakers, my fleece and my trusty iphone and made my way outside for a brisk walk.

Don’t tell anyone, but there is something about the chilly smell of late afternoon to evening around here. I don’t know what it is: burning leaves, or wood, or ??? Whatever that amazing burning charcoal cozy smell is that permeates my neighborhood in the late afternoon and evening makes me want to go on a run. I’m sure this is because I started my running life* by going out after my children were asleep in the middle of a winter not too long ago. So I took a deep breath, turned up the tunes, and I ran.

Wow. It’s hard to take a picture of your own feet running, even if you are motivated by a future slice of life post!

As I ran, I was trying to capture the run through my neighborhood . . .

I run

Smell of fire smoke
cozy warmth mingles with 
brisk snowy wind
Music fills my ears
so I don't hear my own breathing
I'm sure this makes me 
less
of a 
runner
I feel my feet hit the ground 
and I get lost in thinking
and smelling
and feeling the cold air on my face
but not so lost
that I don't keep checking my phone
to see how fast 
how slow 
I am going

* “running life” is a laughable expression for sure, since my running life is slow and short, and not at all worth bragging about!

#sol14 March 1

March 2, 2014Slice of Lifeonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

Saturday.

A weekend! Catch up days: catching up on work and quality-time-snuggles with my children. Well, that’s the idea anyway.

Today is Saturday. The sink is full of dishes that nobody wants to do. The week’s worth of laundry has piled up and up, and last week’s laundry is still waiting to be folded. There are toys all over, and cleaning needs to happen. However,

Today is Saturday. I brought home a bag full of grading to do, and next week’s plans are still just shells. But, like most Saturdays, my plan doesn’t pan out.

trains

Today is Saturday. After a week of packing lunches and sending everyone on their merry way to schools and babysitters, I can’t wait so spend quality time with my 3 kids. But, like most Saturdays, we spend the greater part of the day trying to remember how to all get along in our shared space.

Today is Saturday. Like most Saturdays, I spend the morning grumbling about the mess, trying to plan my day, and attempting to catch up on some relaxation. Then, like most Saturdays, the afternoon finds me realizing I just need to get my act together. Duh. Finally my Saturday feels like a weekend. Meeting a friend to exercise, getting my grocery shopping done, sitting down to just color with my children, giving baths, reading Harry Potter to my sleepy snuggly kids before bed. . . Today is Saturday!

Sometimes just a tall Starbucks can be the celebration. — Sometimes a tall Starbucks can be just the thing to get a Saturday back.

4 year old "E," celebrated Saturday by requesting 3 drinks to go with his gourmet pb&j. — 4 year old “E,” celebrated Saturday by requesting 3 drinks to go with his gourmet pb&j dinner.

#nerdlution check in

February 17, 2014#nerdlution#nerdlutiononathought

So.

I forgot to exercise today… Oops.

It isn’t the first time during this second round of #nerdlution. (I’m not even counting the week I was sick. . . )

But, I learned some things this year. . . and I think I have #nerdlution to thank.

I’ve learned:

It’s okay. It’s okay to be sick, to forget, to not be great at it. It’s the practice that counts, and the taking care of yourself.
Be gentle with yourself. It doesn’t help to be mad about a missed day of exercise. It doesn’t help to think badly about yourself.
Get back on the ~~horse~~ elliptical. There’s always tomorrow!

So tomorrow after school, I’ll climb back on the elliptical, do some intervals, and hope that this week’s meetings and grading and planning don’t make me skip my #nerdlution.

Oh – and tonight? Tonight I’ll probably do a plank or two – just because even though it’s okay to forget. . . it still bothers me. Which is something I would never had said about exercise before. Ever. Never. Ever. Never. Ever. Just ask my high school gym teachers. (But that is another post!)

Here's to more days, where I don't forget to exercise! — Here’s a day when I didn’t forget to exercise!

Reflections on Teaching: Choices

February 5, 2014Reflections on teachingchoices, responsive teachingonathought

Choices.

I’ve always had choice as a part of my classroom, but sometimes I forget how powerful giving choices can be. Our Social Studies unit has a lot of information packed in to the year: All you ever could learn about Ancient Civilizations in 180 days! We do a lot of great nonfiction reading strategies; we talk to the text, we discuss and gather information, metacognate and share our thinking with each other!

But sometimes I forget. I forget that I would need a break if I were a student in middle school, that I would want a chance to learn about things that I choose to learn about. (In reality, I’d probably want to just plan the whole curriculum if I were a student… but I’m taking baby steps here!)

Nobody is really pressuring me from above in terms of my pacing… I mean, we have a curriculum, and essential questions and a scope and sequence. There are activities for me to choose from, and everyone is very understanding. The last civilization we are supposed to learn about is Rome, and the general consensus is… Rome shouldn’t be but usually is taught in a week…. in June…. The real point is that we are teaching students those big ideas about Ancient Cultures and the pieces of what makes a civilization. But I still feel a certain amount of self pressure with my pacing – I’m perpetually behind.

But still… It’s a lot of reading, and note taking, and It had been awhile since I had “pirated it up” with cave painting and famous archeologist visitors… Our time in Egypt was limited, but I figured I could give the kids a day of choice. I took some of the activities that were in the unit, sent the kids a google doc, and let them loose. They could learn about Pyramids through a web quest that ends with a lego challenge, read about hieroglyphics and try their hand at writing some, or learn about papyrus and make some of their own.

Talk about an a-ha moment that I should not have to have over and over again. Forgot is the wrong word, lazy still doesn’t hit it. I have been trying to be engaging with the curriculum and the reading strategies, the content and the understandings… but that isn’t what engagement really is. Engagement is more about sending students on quests to their own understandings, getting out the glue, mixing up some quick papyrus, and sitting on the rug to build lego pyramids.

It is powerful to watch the student choose and engage in the curriculum. It shouldn’t be a treat really, it should be a normal. It is a goal of mine to find more times to step aside from the planning and have my students take the opportunity to direct their own learning.

It is sitting on the floor with the kids (or helping them dip paper bag strips into wet glue… ) that you find out who has a million legos at home, who doesn’t, who did the web quest, who didn’t, and who is understanding content, who isn’t. I’d say it’s a vital part of formative assessment, really.

"papyrus" made with paper bags and glue. — “papyrus” made with paper bags and glue.

Why is it that every time I remember to give choices, sit on the floor and build or create or read with a student I am reminded that I should do it every day. Get on the floor, dump out the legos and listen to all that my students know.

I say I’m doing it right when the principal walks in and she can’t see me right away… I have to raise my hand and say hello. That’s me, down on the floor with a pile of legos and a group of 6th graders who made their own choices about what and how to learn.

A SLICE of the message

January 24, 2014Family, Slice of Lifeonathought

This is a very late Slice of Life, a link up started by Two Writing Teachers. It’s late, but I say it counts! I wrote it for Tuesday, and just now had the chance to actually post it.

Slice of Life: Martin Luther King Jr. Day

My children’s school puts on a Martin Luther King Jr. Day play each year on this day. This was the second year my daughter participated in the play, and the first year they did a performance at night – which means it was my first chance to watch it.

I thought I had everything planned and figured out. Mr. Thought will do school pick up, karate preparation, and karate drop off. When I come home and change from my #nerdultion exercise attire back into regular clothes, I will pack the kids sandwiches for a “van picnic.” Mr. Thought will pick kids up from karate, bring them home to change back into regular clothes (or in L’s case, dressy clothes). We will race to the school just in time for L to join her classmates, and the rest of us to join the audience. We will sit peacefully and enjoy the play and the singing. If the boys get restless, they will surely color with the crayons and paper I have dutifully remembered to bring.

I forgot. I forgot that H will be tired, and will have already seen this play during school. I forgot. I forgot that E will be overtired, having not had a nap. . . I’ve been a parent for over 10 years, and it’s incredible how much I can forget.

H walks in from Karate and says, “I’m not going. I already saw this play, and just like Martin Luther King says ‘Ain’t going to let nobody turn me around,’ I’m not going to let you make me go.”

Well, then.

I am mad, and I am proud. He could very well ruin this evening for L, and make us late, or be rude during the performance if we make him go. However, he obviously watched the play at school if he can make such a clear connection to his life. He is feeling unfairly treated, and he has a point. So, I call my mom and see if by chance he could hang with her.

Of course he can. We have to leave in 5 minutes, and L is still changing, H is deciding if he should stay or go. (Please sing it) E catches on, and now he wants to stay with Granny. And after lots of screaming, crying, and figuring out, it is decided that both boys will stay.

Somehow we are still on time! As the performance begins, I am drawn into this story of the non-violent Civil Rights Movement as the middle school students tell it, and the Peace Choir sings it (that’s where L is, singing with vigor). The story is moving, the songs are heartfelt, and the message is beautiful. To hear these students speak of freedom and equality brings tears to my eyes.

When the students sing “Ain’t going to let nobody turn me around,” I think of H, and how he should win some “house points” from Dumbledore. If “…It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends…” it must take even more bravery to stand up to your mom. I’m glad he understands that part of the message – stand up for yourself and your rights!