Cowards

February 11, 2025Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.

I can’t stop thinking about this comment I saw –
let it go, I know
but
This curriculum coach I don’t even know
wrote something I must be misunderstanding
in a facebook group I don’t even like
and like what
is
going
on
with teaching, right?
She said, and I quote,
“Our goal is…
not asking students to write
but showing them how.”
and now
I’d say I don’t have the words
but I actually have a lot of
words
for cowards
who don’t know what they are talking about
but tell people what to do
who let ships sink saying
they believe in something that isn’t true
who put kids last
last!
explaining how
their misguided data is skewed

On the other hand
I’m glad that the goal isn’t for students to write
that would be like, so,
like,
hard
to fit in
I’ve got worksheets to cover
Skills to
explain
calls for my kids to respond to
in unison
not to mention the grammar
and fill in the blanks
my days are packed, man
just like those
assessments

Don’t tell anyone that I um
secretly teach
kids who write poetry just when they speak
they make stories with blocks, legos, and play
run mini book making factories
throughout the day
my underground workshop is hard to
fit in
but it’s kinda my job
to keep teaching
even when
cowards on Facebook
spew official
advice
luckily it’s not really my job anymore
to pretend to be nice

Make a Wish

January 29, 2025Uncategorizedonathought

I forgot to wish 
As I watched 
The wishing star 
Shooting star 
Fireball
Streak across the sky

My slow brain wondered
What is that?
Is that a shooting star?
A bright ball of glow
Green tail, almost neon
Came so close to the horizon I was sure I’d see an explosion of light
Hear a boom

But it just 
Stopped
Ended silently 
I was so struck 
by the magic 
I forgot to use it 
A shame because 
I could use a wish 
(or two)

Collecting Laugh Lines

January 14, 2025Uncategorizedonathought

I’m not going to romanticize teaching
Because
Today, like every day there was someone picking their nose
Yesterday someone sneezed after the last bell, and as it ran down their face, they tried to use their fingers to wipe it away
It’s not just the snot
It’s not
Today I had to remind them
again that
when I talk it means I have something I want them to, you know, hear,
that I don’t want them to just
look
like they are listening,
I want them to listen
So the long and short of it is I am not here to
tell you it’s all
roses
It’s not

But —

We talked about my laugh lines today,
if you’ve ever written personal essays with 7 year olds, and used your own self portrait as an example, you will probably understand.
“How do we get laugh lines?” they asked me.
“How long does it take?”
An anxious boy asked me what he could do to get laugh lines like mine and I said
Smile as much as you can
So he smiled

Yesterday I asked what a big prize could be and someone said
Another year of second grade

Today after my big talk
where I explicitly taught how to listen
and ask clarifying questions,
they listened
and you should have heard those clarifying questions!

Later at recess, I put on my too big, too long, very warm winter coat.

A student walked over to me and said “Ms. Gabriel? Why do you look like a fluffy marshmallow?“

I laughed,
since I am collecting laugh lines

No More Elegies Today in Second Grade

December 17, 2024Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life, Uncategorizedonathought

This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.

Today I will
write a poem
about my second graders.
It will not be a lament for Wisconsin
It will not be an allusion
to another second grader calling 911.
But rather my second grader
Walking into our classroom to tell me about her sweater.
It had foxes and snow and little bits of glitter. She smiled from dimple to dimple about that sweater.
But rather about my second graders –
Two boys counting their STAR tickets quietly while we waited for them so we could do the Pledge
of Allegiance. (You know the one.)
But rather about my second graders
wearing hats made from roll paper as they performed
Snowflake Bently.
But rather about my second graders
giving me an early birthday gift of beautiful pages
they wrote and drew for me with crayons. Their words a beautiful combination of the spelling they have learned and the still perfect misspellings.
But rather about my second grader
standing on top of a pile of playground logs at recess, telling us
“From where I am, I see 7 snowmen being built!”
But rather about my second grader
looking over at the lollipops I was quickly sorting
“Boy that looks like fun,” he said.
If I weren’t doing this, I’d sure like to help you sort those.”
But rather about my second graders
gathered on the rug to hear a story,
lined up to go home,
saying goodbye with a hug, handshake or high-five.
But rather about my second graders.
The ones I spend my days with are amazing,
brilliant humans.
Little kids
who did not
yet
need to call 911 to report gunshots.

Thank you Clint Smith and your beautiful No More Elegies Today mentor poem.

What Lessons Can You Learn from Characters?

December 3, 2024Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

We’ve been trying to practice transitioning from morning recess to writing with a little writing warm up.

Our notebooks are supposed to be on our desks before we even go out to recess, a pencil too.

“Or a pen!” My second-graders like to remind me every time I say the word pencil. Choices are important.

Today I asked them to write “In December, I am…” at the top of their page, and then to draw 3 things they are doing in December.

“I don’t know what I am in December.” Someone said to another teacher working with them later.

Me neither, buddy. Me neither.

But I drew my examples. I labeled them with captions:

In December I am reading books every day.
In December I am walking Finn in the freezing, freezing cold.
In December I am sitting, resting near the candlelight.

I thought to myself how funny it is that teaching writing is both telling the truth and lying at the same time.

In December I am reading books every day, yes. I am trying for at least a picture book a day this month at school. Plus, we are trying to finish Wild Robot. Two days in, and I’m doing great! 4 books already, and Wild Robot time too. But I haven’t sat on my couch and read a book for me in a very, very long time.

In December I am walking Finn in the freezing, freezing cold, yes. But not as much as I should. He’s antsy, I’m busy. It’s freezing, freezing cold out there.

In December I am sitting, resting near the candlelight. If you can call my artificial Christmas tree, pre-strung with LED lights, “candlelight.” But, I didn’t want to make my example about a specific holiday. Sometimes I do light a candle… but, do you count it as resting if you are working near the Christmas tree?

It’s storytelling time in second-grade. We are reading and writing imaginative stories, asking “What lessons can we learn from the characters in stories.”

Today I asked the kids what story they love.

“I don’t know what story specifically,” my favorite answer began, “I just know I love beautiful stories.”

Me too, buddy. Me too.

We warmed up in math with a problem to do on the number line. If I am 47 this month, and the other second-grade teacher is 26, what is the difference in our ages? I made the problem up, the number line work is solid. But it doesn’t mean I loved the answer.

“21!” They figured out.

“And that’s how old I am!” My student teacher said.

Tonight I made myself stop making my “What lessons can we learn from characters?” chart, and start packing up to go home. It was dark, late, my animals needed dinner, and I had not been successful drawing a stick figure squirrel character for the Snow Thief character’s lesson.

“The kids will do a much better job drawing the characters sketches,” I reminded myself. “Why was I taking that away from them anyway?”

I walked toward my classroom door, made sure I had everything I needed. I was ready to turn off all my little lamps with my remote. I’m so proud about remembering to do that every day.

I had to pause as I passed the Storyteller Fireplace. Our bear was sitting, waiting for tomorrow’s stories I guess.

“Goodnight Fireplace, goodnight bear.” I thought.

And then I wondered why I wasn’t stopping to take pictures of all the things in my classroom so I could go home and write a book called “Goodnight Classroom.”

Which I guess would make me the quiet old lady, whispering, “hush.”

If I’m the character in this story, I so hope there is a different lesson I might learn from my day.

Only in My Dreams

October 22, 2024Reflections on coaching, Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

My friend Mardi died four and a half years ago or so, but she was in my dream last night. She doesn’t show up in my dreams a lot anymore, but it’s always so nice to see her.

She was late to a picnic full of teachers I worked with long ago.

That should have been my first indicator that this was a trick of the mind. She would have never been late in real life.

“It’s raining.” She said when she arrived

“Really?” I asked and she showed me how her dress had sprinkles of water, and the back of it was wet from accidentally sitting in a puddle.

Another indication that this was not a real event. Mardi wouldn’t sit in a puddle. This was a woman who had a white winter coat that she always kept clean.

We sat and chatted and I told her I how I changed my desk configuration to try to help my class focus.

This is actually true in real life. Just yesterday after school I rearranged my desks. We’ll see if it makes an impact.

“I mean, I had everyone facing each other, and then I kept reminding them to stop talking. That’s on me.” I said.

She laughed in agreement.

Then I told her how I have to have another lunch bunch for kids to finish their missing work.

I must have been teaching sixth-grade in this dream.

“They really can’t get work done in the loud cafeteria,” I explained. “But if they come here I feel bad that they don’t get a lunch.”

She gave me one of her classic looks.

For this, I am so grateful for my dream. I miss that Mardi look.

“Just have them eat their lunch and then come back to do their missing work,” she said. She reminded me that it’s okay to keep my expectations high.

How she did this with a look and a sentence might sound like it is only in a dream. But, real-life Mardi could say a lot with a look and a sentence.

I wish that dream picnic could have lasted longer, but my alarm was loud, and the picnic and support session was over in a flash.

I don’t need a dream interpretation website for this one. It was lovely for Mardi to visit me in my dream to give me some teaching advice and encouragement.

It’s not her fault that it makes me cry to remember her dream visit.

Knowing her, she knows my tears are mostly because I miss her. And just a teensy bit because I only get an instructional coach in my dreams.

Time

October 15, 2024Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

Finally out to our second recess, the air chilly and the sun warm, I take a deep breath.

There’s no time to do all the things, and I find myself rushing through so much all day long.

Even though I know rushing doesn’t help.
Even though I know that slowing down is the only way to get more done.
Even though I know it doesn’t serve any of the students I serve.

We don’t need more binders of must dos or more scripts, I think. We need more pauses. The line between a perky pace and a frantic one is too small to measure already. The less we do each day, the better the day. And somehow, the more we learn. I know there is research about this, but I also see it every day.

Usually we live a few “If you give a mouse a cookie” books each day. They start with “If your teacher takes attendance one minute later than usual…” or maybe “If morning meeting starts 3 minutes late and you have to practice coming to the circle quietly a few times …”

Today we had an “If you are ready to start math 2 minutes late, you will have to talk about it. If you have to talk about it, you will start math 5 minutes late but your teacher will still want to have all the math, so you will be getting ready for recess 5 minutes late. If you are getting ready for recess 5 minutes late, some of your friends will hurry but others will not and you will be 10 minutes late to recess. If you are 10 minutes late to recess, you won’t have time to have all 15 minutes of recess.”

I’m not saying it is as fun of a story as the Mouse and the cookie.

I watch the kids outside, running and chasing and smiling in that chilly warm sun and turn around to one of my kids who is fixing her sweatshirt.

“I love recess because…” she says as she pulls her sweatshirt over her short sleeves, “because you can meet more of the kids and also because you can have fun!”

I like recess too.

We stay out for the whole 15 minutes.

Can I Write?

October 8, 2024Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

I put the water on to boil.
I wonder.
Can I write a slice of life
before the water boils?

There’s a lot of typing and deleting.

I check the water, and the answer is no.

No, I cannot write
before the water boils.

I pour what’s left of a box of rotini in,
set the timer for 10 minutes.

How about now? Can I write?

I mean, what else would you need to know?

It’s after 7:00, and I’ve walked the dog.

I’ve put a handful of rotini into a small pot. One kid is at their father’s, the other is at work, and the oldest is away at college.

This morning around 6:00, I took the dog out and I thought, “maybe I’ll write quickly while I have my coffee.”

“Six words,” I thought. “I could do a six word slice.”

I brainstormed a sad six word story: “But when would she write, though?”

The answer is, 13 hours later.

In November, I will be co-presenting at NCTE, all about The Sometimes Secret Writing Lives of Teachers.

Currently my writing life is so secret, I can’t even find it.

We Are Writers

September 24, 2024Uncategorizedonathought

This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.

After school I hung up the slice we wrote in writing today, on a hastily made purple construction paper backing.

I titled it, “We Are Writers.”

We had written “From My Chair” slices to start out our writing time today.

I called it a “Writing warm up.”

Because this morning as I finished my coffee I wrote myself a goal sheet, and one of the goals was to actually do the warm-up writing I had planned to do each day.

“Friends,” I said, “we are ready to start doing writing warm-ups after recess.”

Then I thanked the kids who had their “Slices and Sparks” notebooks and a pencil out on their desk, because I had a giant “You need:” and a picture of their Slices and Spark notebook and a pencil on the board.

“This is one of my favorite slices because you can always write it. You can even write it when you don’t know what to write!”

I modeled one quickly for them, and had them get started to. They could choose to do this, or a “Rose and Thorn” slice. All but one or two tried the “From My Chair.”

When we started sharing them, I was, of course, in love with the poetry children create when they write.

“We have to make this into a collaborative poem. Choose your favorite lines to add to our class poem. If you didn’t write this kind of slice, write just one line now to share.”

We shared, I typed, we read our poem together. It was beautiful.

“Maybe we should keep writing on this page more and more slices!” Someone suggested

“Isn’t this just a warm-up?” Someone asked.

“I can’t wait to send this poem home in our class newsletter this week!” I said, and I nodded to answer his question.

“Or maybe you should just print it out.” They suggested.

They are very good at suggestions.

So I printed it out and our student teacher went to get it.

We needed a little break, a little change up from writing.
This was obvious, and if you are a teacher you know what I mean.

I gathered them to finish our read aloud book.

“But, wasn’t that just a writing warm-up?” Someone asked again, wondering, as I’m sure you are, why our warm-up took almost all of writing today.

“Yep, yep, yep.” I said, trying to figure out how to explain my flexible, responsive teaching plans to an 8 year old.

With 10 minutes left of writing, I had no other option. We got out our writing folders, our small moment story designs, and I passed out paper.

“Writers,” I said, “Let’s get started writing these beginnings! You have 8 minutes!”

I’m not saying that was my proudest teacher-of-writing moment. 8 minutes?

Tomorrow, we will do more story writing, I promise. It’s in the plans!

Tomorrow, our warm-up will not take almost half an hour.

Tomorrow, when kids walk into the classroom, I hope they see my purple construction paper sign with their published slice of life.

Crickets

September 3, 2024Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

I have a student teacher.

When I told my 17 year old that my student teacher was starting today, he said incredulously, “they approved you for that?”

“I am a veteran teacher,” I explained to him.

In my first year again.

Today after recess, or maybe after lunch — the time runs together — we were getting started on — well something. But there was a chirping.

The second-graders asked, “What is that? A cricket?”

I thought it might be my quiet writing music from writing, so I muted my computer but the chirp kept chirping.

Indeed, it was a cricket.

Earlier, still at home, enjoying my coffee, I had stumbled upon an “I love bugs song” that had promise for school. See the other day at recess some kids were stomping on a bug outside. We had a chat about that. So a song would be so good.

I like bugs, and I’ll tell you why. They’re alive and so am I.
Bugs.
I like grasshopers cause frogs eat em
I like bees cause flowers need em
I like spiders
I like slugs
I like caterpillars
I like bugs…

But when I listened to the whole song I wasn’t so sure. There’s a line about hating crowds, loving people and not being down with the plague…

But when there was a cricket in my room, I wished I had memorized that song.

Maybe we could make up another line.

I like crickets and I’ll tell you why. They’re alive and so am I
Crickets
chirp chirp
Crickets

Instead of singing, I reminded the kids that we don’t hurt bugs. We are STAR students. We show kindness to all creatures great and small.

When the class went to their special, my student teacher and I tried to find the cricket.

Okay, fine. It was mostly him. I let him find the cricket.

When he found it, he asked if he should take it outside.

“It’s actually really big,” he said.

I told him that it was up to him. If he felt comfortable doing it he could, but he certainly didn’t have to carry a giant cricket outside on his first day of second-grade.

“When you tell this story in 20 years about your first day with your mentor teacher, please make sure you include the part where I told you it was totally up to you.”

I mean, this is a story you tell right? Your first day student teaching?

Well, it’s a story I’m telling at least.

As for my student teacher, he survived his first day in second-grade, and he helped a giant cricket survive second-grade too — by taking it outside.