Search results matching tags 'preschool' and 'routines'

Count Basie helps us clean up every day

Anonymous — Fri, 05 Oct 2012 11:26:56 GMT

A few years ago, clean up time was starting to bug me. It was getting harder to get the kids to finish cleaning their stuff to come sit down. I thought about using some clean up song on a kids’ music cd, but decided that would be too irritating to listen to a few times every day.

So I chose my favorite song by Count Basie, “On the Road to Mandalay.” It has been one of my favorite songs since that year in my twenties when I decided to have fun New Year’s resolutions, and vowed to learn more about jazz. It makes me feel happy, and it even compels me to dance a little bit, every time it’s on. I’m smiling, the kids are smiling, and we always try to “beat the music” so that we are all sitting quietly in the meeting area by the time the ending notes play. Clean up time is almost a joy these days.

You can listen to it here, if you’re curious.

Pete the Cat (and a Prep Period) Save the Day

Anonymous — Mon, 10 Sep 2012 19:37:34 GMT

Today was better. The weather was perfect — cool in the morning, sunny and not too hot later — and I had a prep period while the children were at gym, so that helped a lot. I only have preps Monday and Wednesday this quarter, so last week with no school on Labor Day I only had one prep in four days. That was tough.

This morning I came in early, again, and was able to get a lot done to get ready for the day. We read the original Pete the Cat book at morning meeting, and as I thought they would, the children loved it. We all sang along…”I love my red shoes, I love my red shoes, I love my red shoes, I love my red shoes.” And in honor of Red Week — and in honor of Pete — I had on my red converse sneakers today. Most of the class was wearing red, so that was a sign that the parents do actually read my newsletter and class calendar.

My 19th student finally showed up, on the 8th day of school. This child has special needs, and some special family circumstances, so I was glad to have the last little one here. The child did pretty well, too.

The class is finally learning our routines, and things went pretty smoothly for once. I went home sleepy, but not exhausted, which was a nice change.

The Second Day is So Much Better

Anonymous — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 00:28:43 GMT

I did wake up with another migraine, but it went away and hasn’t come back. My morning crier came back, and true to his word, wasn’t scared, and didn’t cry at all. He even rode the bus to school with no troubles. My end-of-the-morning crier, on the other hand, started crying as soon as his sister left him in our room, and he cried on and off for the rest of the morning. When he wasn’t crying, he was talking non-stop to my assistant teacher, who is fluent in Spanish. Later she said he might have OCD, because he would obsess about one little thing after another. (“I want to go home. I want my mommy and daddy. Is it time for the bus? Can I go home on the bus now to my mommy and daddy? What bus do I get on? Does my teacher know what bus is mine? I live at number four. Does the bus driver know that? Is it on my bus tag? Does it say four? Do you know? Can we go look at my bus tag right now? It needs to say four. Does it say four?” and so on.) But even he had a few quiet, content moments.

Everyone seems like they understand at least some of what I’m saying, which is impressive, since only three of my students are native English speakers. They are already starting to learn how to walk in a line, without seeming like I’m trying to herd puppies. They are learning to ask “can I get some water?” instead of just walking out of the room, and they are learning a little bit about how to clean up, how to wash hands, and where the bathroom is.

They are sweet, and they are lovely, and they are mine. It will be another good year.

We had time for a nice long recess, which they loved, and they got in line much more quickly this time. When we went in, one boy’s mother walked along with us. One of the other boys, realizing she must speak Spanish, started chatting to her. I asked for a translation, and she said, “He says I should see the class, it is very beautiful. And clean.” That put a smile on my face.

Our classroom is very beautiful. And clean.

routines — further reflections

Anonymous — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 23:17:09 GMT

In Sunday’s New York Times magazine there was a letter to the editor that gave me pause:

Despite her admirable developmental perspective, Pamela Paul fails to consider the effect of a sociocultural context that utterly ignores the developmental needs of 3- to 5-year-olds. When small children are expected to sit still, follow a schedule, even learn the alphabet — when curiosity, movement and nonconformity earn a “frowny face” — why are we surprised that so many feel sad, guilty and unworthy? No other culture treats children this age as we do. No wonder so many American kids are unhappy.

This letter was in response to an article last week about whether or not preschoolers can be depressed. The original article was really thought-provoking (if we say that they can, will we overmedicate them? is it depression or just a phase? what, if anything, should we do for a depressed preschooler? are we thinking it is something else — like special needs — when actually it is mental illness?).

But the letter — “When small children are expected to sit still, follow a schedule, even learn the alphabet” — gave me pause. Right after writing my routines post, in which I advocated expecting children to sit still and follow a schedule (and even earn the alphabet), someone says that this is wrong, and harmful to children. Maybe she’s right, and I’m wrong.

On the other hand, if you keep reading, she says “when curiosity, movement and nonconformity earn a “frowny face.”" I know that’s not true in my classroom. Curiosity, movement, and nonconformity are treasured in my room.

And I think that there are good reasons for what I do in my class. For one thing, the letter writer is presumably college-educated. She is probably talking about kids from middle-income homes with college-educated parents. And maybe those kids don’t need much in the way of academics in preschool. Most of my students come from families in poverty, where few, if any, family members have been to college. I do what I do to get my students to travel as far as possible so that when they go to kindergarten, they will have the skills and experiences and knowledge of children from middle-class families, and they will not be allowed to fall behind right from the start.

I’m tying myself into knots over this. What do you all think?

teacher talents

Anonymous — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 18:09:28 GMT

I have been selected in a meme by Organized Chaos, on the things teachers can do that don’t exactly go on a resume. Here is my list of hidden teacher talents:

can instantly tell when a child returning from the bathroom didn’t wash his/her hands
can tell when a child needs to go to the bathroom, even if he/she doesn’t even realize it yet
can recite Where the Wild Things Are from memory (I have actually done this at parties)
can read upside down with ease
can spot problems before they even happen
can get twenty four year olds to walk in a quiet line through the halls
can make up a lesson plan on the spot
can read a children’s book aloud so skillfully that the children are rapt with attention
can “laminate” with contact paper without any bubbles or wrinkles
can give animated, detailed lessons on how to put a cap on a marker, how to clean up the floor with masking tape, how to pee in the potty instead of on the floor, how to wipe, how to wash hands, how to blow your nose, how it’s not okay to pick your nose, how germs are spread, how to put on your jacket (the Preschool Flip!), how to put your napkin in your lap, and many more
can get through a lockdown drill without anybody getting scared
can do marvelous things with construction paper, tape, rubber cement, scissors, and markers

I’m going to meme five more talented teachers, to find out what their hidden talents are:

Let us know your hidden talents, and meme five other talented teachers.

More about what we do all day

Anonymous — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 23:59:29 GMT

In the comments for my last post, jwg said:

I’m curious. Are there art materials available for the kids who don’t want to color in the lines? Are there other math materials in the math center or do they have to do the project? Is there sand or water play? Can they chose to write about something other than Under the Sea? Is there a Dramatic Play area where the kids choose the script? I think you see where I’m headed here. As you decribe your day it sounds as if the children have choices of where to go, but few choices of what to do when they get there. I hope I missed something.

Here’s my reply:

Point taken. You didn’t miss anything, because I missed some things. Here’s what was missing:

The art center has a specific activity about every other day, and on other days all the materials (large scraps, small scraps, ribbons, hole punches, stickers, glue, scissors, markers, crayons, etc.) are available for the children to do whatever kind of art they’d like. Some of the kids in my class are thrilled to color pictures, and I offer that kind of activity for them from time to time. The ones who want to draw when the art center is booked for something else usually go to the writing center, which is always open for free exploration, even if there is a specific activity being offered there. (The writing center has pencils, crayons, markers, colored pencils, envelopes, several different kinds of paper, and little blank booklets in addition to alphabet magnets and whiteboards.) They can write about whatever they’d like to, but usually are interested in the theme. We have a big pocket chart with word and picture cards for the theme, and the children like to use them to draw pictures and write words in their journals, or at the writing center during centers time. Today Pumpkin took a blank booklet and made a book with pictures of a princess, a whale, an octopus, and a tuna fish who was a bad guy, complete with pretend writing. It was awesome.

The house corner is always open, and is usually just a house, although sometimes I change it to go with the theme. (We’ve had a bear cave and a pizza restaurant, for example.) The sand table is always available, and blocks are almost always open. Sometimes instead of blocks we’ll have the train set or a big tub of Duplos in blocks instead of our wood blocks.

The math center is like the art center — it has a specific, directed activity (usually taken from the curriculum, but sometimes teacher-created) about every other day. On the alternate days, the kids can choose. We have two separate bookshelves full of math manipulatives. I find, however, that the kids like the math center better when there is something new or a special activity. They spent a lot of time doing free exploration of the manipulatives in September and October, and they’re kind of over it.

So there’s the missing information about our centers time. I will say this, however — I do not have a 100% child-centered classroom. That’s probably obvious by now to any regular reader. This is a conscious choice on my part: I think a completely child-centered classroom can be a terrific place for learning, but while it is possible to do it well, it’s also very difficult. The 100% child-centered classroom doesn’t fit my personality or my teaching style, and I think that there is some value in having some of the morning be teacher-directed. I’ve got more to say on that subject, but think I will save it for another post.

i hate the first day of school

Anonymous — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 12:15:36 GMT

It’s here. The room is ready (except for my desk, which resembles a demolition site), but I’m not. I’ve been having weird dreams (I was dying of cancer in one dream, running away with a New York City firefighter in another, and hanging out with Martha Stewart and a rock star in another) and not sleeping well.

I told my husband this morning that I think the reason I hate the first day of school is that it’s all so awkward. Once we get going we’ll have this awesome, streamlined, smooth-functioning routine, and it will be easy to plug things into the routine. On the first day there is no routine, and so we do a little bit of this (tour the school) and a little bit of that (our first morning meeting and calendar time) and a little bit of this (drawing self-portraits) and a little bit of that (touring the classroom and opening up our first center).

Also I feel like a big dork. I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing the whole time. Like maybe I completely forgot how to teach over the summer.

I can’t wait until this morning is over!

My school family

Anonymous — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 13:27:26 GMT

Every day, at the end of our morning together, my class stands up and holds hands in a circle, and sings the “School Family Song,” to the tune of “You are my Sunshine.”

You are my family, my school family,

I feel happy when you are here,

I hope you know, friends,

How much I love you,

When we’re apart,

I’ll keep you here.

(We put our hands on our hearts for the last line.) This song is from the book I Love You Rituals, by Becky Bailey, which is well worth getting for anyone who spends time with young children. I only use a few of the songs but with tremendous effect.

Last year, sometime early in the year, we drew pictures of our family members. K., who is an only child, had one more person in her picture than I expected. I sat down and asked her to tell me about the people in the picture.

“This is me, this is my mom, this is my dad, this is my grandpa, this is my teacher.”

“I’m in your family?” I asked, confused.

“Yes,” she said. And then it dawned on me.

“Is this because of our song? I’m in your school family?”

She beamed. And I felt so honored. (Also aware of my power, and how careful I need to be. When I sing a song about a school family with my students, they believe me. They believe everything I say. I need to be very, very careful about what I say.)

Anyway, we are a family. Each year, I have about twenty new children, and I’m sort of their teacher, sort of another mom. I love them, and I tell them so, and often, they love me back.

Opening up centers on the first day of school

Anonymous — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 15:28:54 GMT

On the first day of school — my least favorite of the year, but that’s a different story — my centers are all closed. The house corner gets roped off with a sign that says “Closed” even before the open house, so the children already know when they arrive on the first day that they can’t just [...]