Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for information and links to more Slicing!

Last weekend was the Karate test. Both of my “big kids” were up for their second yellow stripe. My husband, my 4 year old and I sat squished among all the other parents watching the test. At first I was mostly just nervous for my kids, hoping they didn’t mess up…wondering what would happen if one of them passed the test and the other didn’t. I reminded myself that the class was testing because their teacher thought they were ready to test.

Then I started noticing the slices of assessment…

Before the test, I saw the Karate Teacher, Master Y kneel next to the group of students and give what I’ll call “The Mistakes Talk.” He told them, “You’ll make mistakes. That’s okay. That’s how you learn. Nobody’s going to fail the test because they make mistakes. Try not to make the same mistake over and over again. The judges will take notes so you can learn from today.” Even though it was a test, they knew it was okay if they made mistakes, and that they should continue to learn.

As the students tested, Master Y gave them reminders about their forms that were direct and to the point. Just because it was a test, their teacher was not silent.  “K’ihaps can be stronger.”  He reminded them.

Master Y told his students what was next. Before he called out directions, he said, “I’ll call them in order so you won’t be confused.” Just because it was a test, it didn’t need to be tricky.  In fact, as some of the students were testing for their yellow belt, Master Y told the watching yellow stripe students, “What you see is what you’ll be doing in your next test –something to aspire to.”

Each student had a judge watching them. Black belts watched as these beginning karate students worked their way through forms and then sparred with them. A person to evaluate each student, give each student personalized advice!  After the first sparring round, Master Y asked the black belts to tell the students a number to redo. They had a chance to redo something they hadn’t done as well on in the first place! 

At the end of the test, the judges and Master Y went to the back room. As he left, he addressed the students: “I’m going back to discuss what I saw. Sit quietly and think about how you did today and what you saw. And think if it inspired you at all.

It inspired me. I have been thinking about what elements of this kind of assessment I have or  can have in my classroom. I don’t teach karate, and I’m certainly not in charge of the capital A Assessments that my students have to take… but what lessons can I learn about testing? Rolling around in my head are thoughts of individualized assessment, conferring, the power of mistake making, helping students with their confidence, choosing specific goals with students, giving students the chance to redo when possible…

I’d love to hear from you, reader. What lessons can you learn from what I noticed at Karate. Or, what assessment lessons have you recently learned?

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for information and links to more Slicing!

It’s winter cold season around here. My son came home on Friday with a low fever and has been coughing ever since. I started getting the cold on Sunday night, my daughter started getting a sore throat Monday morning, and my youngest started the sniffles last night. I’m a baby about being sick. So, last night I went to bed early, woke up an hour later, tried to steam away my cold in a bath… which ended when my 8 year old woke up coughing. I spent the whole night taking small naps in between waking up to him coughing, giving him water, cough drops, etc. This caused me to stay in bed too long this morning, leave my house at the last possible second, and arrive in my classroom just a step ahead of students.

As I unpacked my laptop, and organized my morning things, students were crowding around me, sitting next to me, talking about how tired they were, how they didn’t feel good, how they had been wishing for a 2-hour delay… (Me too, guys. Me too.) The general feeling of blah was all around the room.

I wished for just a moment that I had some nice (quiet) independent work they could do. A word search! A journal entry! Read to self! But, I knew we needed to gather in our morning circle, so gather we did.

“Wow,” I said. “It seems like maybe I’m not the only one feeling discombobulated this morning… Other people are telling me they are tired and sick, and wishing they were back in bed…”

Students nodded and agreed. So we did our “rose and thorn” activity. Going around the circle, students shared a thing they were not happy about today (thorn) and something they were happy about (rose). As we went around the circle, it became clear that I was right: everyone was tired, or had colds. As one student remarked, “Everyone’s sick! This December sickness is killing us!”

But, listening to the roses was just what I needed. Basketball games, grandparent’s visiting, holidays coming, and my favorite, “But my rose is, I’m alive!”

We ended our circle with a 1-2-3 “clap,” and we were off to math. Some days are better than others, and I can’t wait until all the sniffles and coughs are gone. . . but I plan to try to keep remembering the roses.

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for information and links to more Slicing!

I’m on bus duty and I’m freezing at the parent pick up area. It’s almost the end of my bus duty weeks, and I’ve been watching.

I watch as kids walk down the path. I see kids in groups, loud and laughing. I see kids arm in arm with  friends, and kids walking alone. I see kids smiling, kids weighted down by backpacks or bags of library books. I see kids looking concerned and kids just concentrating on leaving.

A few of my current 6th graders wave a quick goodbye to me, as they scan for their parents.

I catch the eyes of 7th and 8th graders who used to belong to my classroom, and call them by name as we say goodbye. It feels good to know these kids.

My teacher ears pick up snapshots of conversations that are happening in small groups that assemble around me.

“You should date her.”

“Remember that time…”

“Did you text him?”

“Is your mom coming to pick us up? It’s cold.”

“You’re a loser.”

One group gets loud and obnoxious in an unsettling way: a playful push here, a throwing of leaves, an inappropriate remark that almost crosses the line, but did I really hear it correctly?

I move myself closer, and wonder about the rules.

In school, you can’t call someone a loser. It’s not okay to make inappropriate jokes that make others feel uncomfortable. “Your mama” phrases aren’t tolerated. In my classroom and with the students I interact with, I try to make these learning experiences. I don’t want to bully you into not bullying – I want to help you move towards kindness. On bus duty it feels different. I don’t know these kids – not even their names. I don’t know what norms they have settled on in their 8th grade hallway. I know that it has always seemed looser, as if the 8th grade teachers know to let the 8th graders spread their wings. But unkindness is hard for me to hear without intervention.

In school, you can’t have your cell phone. As soon as the bell rings, students walk out the door, cell phones out. By the time they get down to parent pick up, they have already texted and instagramed, tweeted and occasionally even called, to their hearts content. Groups of middle school students stand with phones out, having conversations with the people next to them and the world at the same time. I am unsettled by this, but is it against the rules? Don’t I tweet and text and read on my phone when I’m bored? Don’t I think think that kids deserve to feel connected? I know so many benefits of connection and technology, but I feel like I’m watching the introduction to a real life Wall-e, where students are connecting only through this device, and not with the people right next to them.

I’m on bus duty, and I’m watching. I am trying to make sure you are safe but I think I may have failed. I see you walking alone, and I see you navigating your friendship groups. I see you telling loud obnoxious jokes, and I see you look at me wondering what right I have to intercede. I should have introduced myself to you and your friends and found some common ground. Instead I reverted to my early teaching days – when I had 8th grade lunch duty and 8th grade study hall. When I didn’t know what I was supposed to do so I just became an enforcer.

“That’s not okay.” I say as you throw leaves at the girl next to you.

“She doesn’t mind.” you tell me with the air of defiance playing on your face.

“Well I do. So, stop.” I say. I can tell my eyebrows raise into my teacher face.

And that’s all I’ve got on bus duty: an eyebrow raise and an enforcing “Stop.”  I’m on bus duty and I’m freezing at the parent pick up area. It’s almost the end of my bus duty weeks, and I’ve been watching.

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for information and links to more Slicing! 

“Wait! We didn’t do mindfulness today.” A student reminds me as we are about to get started on some social studies reading.

I was at a training this morning, so my classes missed doing mindfulness. I am so happy that they missed it, that they wanted to do it. They are noticing the peace, I think. “Do you want to do it now or after the activity?” I ask

“Now!” the majority answer.

Like usual, we settle in. I ask the students to get comfortable, “Criss cross applesauce works for most people” I find myself saying (almost every day).  “Your eyes are closed, my eyes are open. Settle yourselves. Be still. Begin to notice your breathing.” I look around and I see them settle. There are a few in each of my classes who still struggle with the settling part. Their legs can’t seem to stop moving for very long, or they are forcing their eyes to be shut because they really really really want to open them.

They have gotten so much better though, in the past couple of weeks. In the beginning,  I had to remind myself that this wasn’t last year’s class that already knew how to do it. But the results are stunning, anecdotally, of course.

In my hour + math period, we do a minute or two of yoga and then a minute or two of mindfulness, and some days we try to take a brain break by running off some steam outside. Last week I reflected on the difference between the day that we missed the mindfulness and the day that we missed the break. The day that we missed the mindfulness was not a good day: My students struggled with keeping focused. It was then that I realized that maybe this mindfulness was better than I had thought. It’s hard to give even 2 minutes to something that isn’t directly related to academics, but these few minutes a day seem to be working.

I look around at the quiet faces of my class, and feel lucky for this moment of quiet. I know the research says that this quiet mindfulness is good for their academics, their self-regulation, their focus, and for decreasing stress and anxiety. But at this moment, I just feel grateful for the peaceful calmness we are fostering in our classroom. It feels like a gift.

Later, settling in at home, I will come across a great article on edutopia where Meena Srinivasan is talking about her book called Teach, Breathe, Learn: Mindfulness In and Out of the Classroom. I will read her reasons for practicing mindfulness in the classroom, and I will feel so relieved that I’m not crazy for just being grateful for the peace. I can’t wait to read her book. She says,

“Mindfulness is empowering because it helps us see that in every moment we have a choice; we can choose to be more skillful, and there are concrete strategies that can help us bring more peace, love, and joy into our lives.”