Showing posts with label process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label process. Show all posts

Monday, September 2, 2013

freedom and limits


some art materials sit out on the table,
attractively displayed.
glue, brushes, various objects for collage, some round fabric samples donated by a neighbor.
the table is inviting, asking children to come and do, come and make, come and explore.
the teacher has an idea of what the children might do,
what the materials are for.

what is freedom, at this art table?
the children are free to select their materials, glue them together as they see fit.
are they free to dump out the beads, dump out the feathers, take them away to another table,
pour the jewels into a purse and carry them away as treasure?
should the teacher dictate that "these are only for this project" and "they stay at this table?"
should everyone at the table be involved in a dialogue about the limits?
what will happen if someone takes all the jewels away?
what will happen if someone dumps out all the beads?

are they free to glue all the fabric samples together in a tall stack, leaving none for anyone else?
are they free to use as much glue as they like, even if a teacher thinks they are using too much?
a teacher can give information, or wonder:
"if you stack them all up, there won't be any for other children to use."
"i wonder if your piece will dry with all that glue on it."





here are paper, crayons, scissors, a 3-year-old.
what is freedom here?
is he free to cut his paper any way he chooses?
is he free to experiment with how to hold the scissors
even though it's clear to a teacher that he doesn't know how yet?
should a teacher take his hands and show him how, or let him struggle to find his own way?
perhaps a 4-year-old will come along, if not today, then another day.
he will see how the 4-year-old holds the scissors, and he will try it too.

is he free to cut his hair? his clothes? another child's picture?
is he free to color on the table? on the floor?
who makes these decisions, and why?





here are some paints, out in the backyard.
there's an easel next to the paints, but somehow the paint can't seem to stay there.
are the children free to paint the fence? the wall? the tree?
what about the places where other children step to climb up?
does freedom end where safety is concerned, and who gets to decide?
does a teacher say, "you can't paint there?"
or, "people step there when they're climbing. 
if you paint there, it could be slippery and people could fall."
what if children still want to paint there?





what if children want to paint on their own bodies?
"i'm making wonder woman bracelets, so i can be wonder woman," she said.
who's the boss of a child's own skin?
the teacher? the evening bath-giver? the skin-wearer herself?
what if she wants to paint her face, legs, and tummy too?
what if other children see her and also want to paint themselves?
is there any harm in it?

we ask ourselves these questions:
out loud in staff meetings,
and subconsciously as we make split-second decisions about how to respond in the moment.
teachers have wisdom, from their years of experience.
children need to live the experience, in order to gain the wisdom.
somewhere in the grey area between freedom and limits
lies the substance of the work we are doing:
empowering children to make educated choices,
treat others with respect and empathy,
speak up for themselves and others if they see an injustice,
and to question the authorities who sometimes say,
"no dumping out all the feathers,"
"this is the right way to hold the scissors,"
and "paint stays at the easel."





Tuesday, August 6, 2013

IDEC 2013 - part 4 - vision and connections



Monday's theme at IDEC 2013 (the International Democratic Education Conference) was "Vision," and Tuesday's theme was "Connections." In two days I filled 17 pages with notes. How can I coherently convey any of it to anyone?

In reality, looking back through my notes, most of what I've written down are just ideas and questions. Then, ideas that lead to more questions. The most amazing thing about being here is that everyone is here to share and learn with and from each other. Everybody wants to hear each other's stories, ask questions, find out who's got experience in the thing they're stuck on, find out who's doing something radically different and amazing. And everybody accepts everyone else at face value. There's no judging, just an understanding that we're each on our own paths, each seeking the next challenge or adventure.

In boiling down the last 48 hours, I think my takeaway so far is to go back to my school and work the way the conference is working. Ask big questions, wait for answers to come. Work collaboratively on problems. Include everyone in the conversation. Trust the kids and trust the process.

Here are some of the big questions from these first two days that I want to bring back to my school. And I'd love to hear my readers' responses as well. Everybody is invited into the conversation! The last two questions are ones that we've been exploring for the past year already.

- How do you define democratic education?

- What does community participation look like?

- How do you balance your vision for your school with the visions/needs/concerns etc. of the school community?

- How can we build connection with each other for the future of democratic education?

- What are your thoughts on the pros and cons of making decisions by consensus vs. majority voting?

- When children make the rules, what do you do about bottom-line safety concerns that the adults aren't willing to negotiate on, i.e. holding hands crossing the street, sitting up while eating, washing hands after using the bathroom?

- When you value not bossing children around or forcing them to do things that they don't want to do in school, how do kids learn responsibility for materials (taking care of them, not breaking them, cleaning up)?

I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts and ideas and as always, even more questions.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

transformers and math in a commercial-free preschool

Commercially licensed characters. Are. Everywhere. Kids these days are inundated with them from birth. Even adults these days grew up inundated by them, so much that it's hard not to think of some of our favorites as "classics" and make them an exception to the rule. 




What's the rule? Around here, it's "No commercially licensed characters at school." We like our school to be a haven where the bombardment of images from TV and movies stops for a few hours and children are free (or forced) to use their imaginations (and memory) to guide their dramatic play. That means T-shirts, lunch boxes, books, classroom materials, backpacks, costumes, shoes, hats, blankets - everything - must be free of commercially licensed characters.




The kids don't forget about their favorites when they walk through the door, of course. There is still plenty of talk and pretend play from Star Wars to Disney princesses and everything in between. The difference is that the "stuff" isn't there to define the game for the children. They have to rely on their mental recall and language skills to reenact favorite stories. If they want light sabers or crowns, they figure out how to make them from the materials available in the art room, using their creativity and problem solving in the process.




This week I got a glimpse of another great outcome of having the commercial character ban in place. Some of the kids have become interested in Transformers, and spent much of their time outdoors playing Autobots and Decepticons, explaining the characters and game to their friends along the way.  Indoors, they invented a new use for the ever-popular Magna-Tiles: they built a variety of 3-D shapes, named them after their favorite Transformer characters, and then had them transform into flat shapes.




"Watch how it transforms," they told me. "You put the arms up, then the head..." and demonstrated until the flat shape had returned to its original 3-D glory. This reminded me of 4th-6th grade math lessons in which children learn to visualize 3-D shapes from a flat drawing that can be folded up into a shape. These kids will be champs at that, and they don't even know they're learning it. And they might not have had the chance to learn it if store-bought Transformers had been allowed at school. 

For more on the commercial-free movement, go here:
Campaign for a Commercial Free Childhood


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

gradual departure



Over the years I've seen a lot of kids dropped off at preschool, and a lot of kids picked up from preschool.  These may seem like basic everyday events, but they are huge. 

Most parents quickly get drop-off nailed.  At our school we have a built-in part of the day we call "Gradual Arrival."  It's the first hour of the day and we invite parents to come in with children, read a book, play a game, hang out a little bit while kids get settled in, have a quick check-in with a teacher about any information relevant to the day, etc.  It's gentle, it's relaxed, it's cozy.  Many children are ready to separate with a quick hug and sometimes forget to say goodbye.  Others need a specific routine before they can say goodbye: one book, five hugs and kisses at the door, and Mommy does a silly dance outside the window.  The routine varies for each child, of course, and the silly dance is not always required!


More difficult to navigate sometimes is pick-up time.  Your child had a hard time saying goodbye in the morning, so you think they'll be glad to go home at the end of the day, but they have just as hard a time leaving school as they had leaving you.  Or, you had a long day at work and you still have to pick up baby brother and get some groceries before you can go home to make dinner.  It's time to go and you're ready now.  Why is your child not ready to leave?



At our school, kids go home at all different times from 1:00 to 6:00, so there's no way to put "Gradual Departure" into the schedule, but I've come to the realization that it's just as important, and something that parents should consider putting into their daily routine.

Imagine that your spouse is going to pick you up from work.  You don't know exactly when, you just have a general idea that it will be late afternoon.  Just as you get on a roll in a project you've been struggling with, your spouse arrives and wants to leave immediately.  It would be a little unsettling.  Wouldn't you want to share the breakthrough in your work and let them know that you need a few minutes to wrap up what you're doing?

Alternatively, what if your spouse came to pick you up in the middle of a recreational activity with your friends, and demanded to leave right away?  Since play is children's work, both of these scenarios are true for them.  Just as they need time to adjust into school, they need time to adjust out.

Some parents come and hang out, chatting with each other or the teachers, while the kids finish playing and then get ready to go.  This is good community building time, but it could be even better.



The idea of "Gradual Departure" came to me from a parent whose child told her he didn't like it when she came to pick him up and didn't play with him.  He was up in the clubhouse (kind of a treeless treehouse in the backyard, which is too small for adults to stand upright in), and she went right up there and got into his game.  This child, who often resists every step of the way toward going home, packed up and left without any fuss after his mom played with him for a little while.

Another time I was involved in a dramatic play game of "The Three Bears" with two other children in the backyard.  We were just discussing how we needed someone to come out and be Goldilocks when one of their moms arrived to pick up, and without even thinking I said, "Oh good, you're just in time to be Goldilocks." She graciously took it in stride!

Kids love it when adults pretend play with them.  They delight in it.  So jumping into their game is a great way to respect the work they've been doing all day, to show them that you see them, appreciate their process, and value their ideas. 





Then, when it's time to go, just as you reassure them in the morning that you'll be back to pick them up later, you can reassure them that the school and the teachers and the friends and the materials they're using will still be here tomorrow, or next week, and they can play this game again next time.  Some kids even like to save a favorite school material in a special place where they can find it again tomorrow. 

Change is hard, and going home at the end of the day is change.  It takes time to think about it, time to reconnect with parents, and transition out of a hardworking day at school.  Giving your child time and attention at pick-up can set you up for a whole evening of positive interactions. 



Saturday, September 8, 2012

seasons go round


summer

"Life's a Beach" by Teachers GK, WH, and WR

summer comes to the bay area in fits and starts -
a day or two in may
followed by a foggy june,
a three-day heat wave in july,
a few sunny days at the beach in august.

the heat only ever lasts a few days
before it gives in, and sucks up the fog from the pacific
like it, too, needed an ice cream cone

 that's when the summer tourists at fisherman's wharf
buy up all those hooded sweatshirts.
"sunny california," they guffaw,
as they marvel at the speed of the fog rolling in.
they blink, 
and the golden gate bridge has disappeared. 




autumn

"Untitled" by Teachers MB & JB


school starts in september;
some places are beginning to feel
that autumn is almost here,
but this is the time, for us,
that summer decides to stay awhile.

there are signs of autumn -   
in the cooler morning air
my bare feet almost want slippers,
bare arms almost want a long-sleeve shirt.

stores are decked out in autumn colors,
halloween's monsters get their own aisle
before labor day

we can't start the school year with autumn leaves as most curriculum guides suggest -
they won't show up until late october,
when stores are stocking aisles with christmas decorations
and images of children playing with sleds on white-blanketed hills.

we have hills
but they will be brown,
and the children have never seen snow falling on their homes.





winter

"Exposed Death" by Teachers MD & AL


what is winter, 
when you have no snow?
when your lemon trees and rose bushes blossom and bear fruit
all year long?
when warm and cold days still alternate at will?
i struggled with this question as a california teacher
for many years
until a four-year-old gave me the answer:
"winter is when it gets dark while we're still at school."

that's how some plants know it's winter around here, too -
by the hours and angle of the sunlight,
the occasional morning frost,
the smell of smoke from fireplaces
on dark and cozy evenings
under the softest blanket.




spring

"A Bouquet of Flowers" by Teachers AT & ST


so, what is spring,
if not the melting of the snow?
daffodils pop out and show their sunny faces
in february,
sometimes before the coldest weather.

spring is when the rain comes
(it also comes in winter)
(sometimes it's hard to tell the difference)
and the morning frosts are gone.
the sun seems brighter,
warmer,
stays up longer,
clearer

spring is when the hills turn green
and the flowers just go crazy.
bugs, and birds, and butterflies
wake up and do their springtime dance.

sometimes there are summer days
in spring
and how do we tell the difference then?
"summer is when it's my bedtime and the sun is still up.  
isn't that silly?"
and we are back around again.



--------------------------------------



 
Last year there was an amazing natural materials project at our Oakland school.  Kids were arranging leaves, sticks, rocks, shells, feathers, flowers, etc. and photographing and naming their creations.  At open house night, the materials were out for families to use, and some beautiful arrangements were created by parents and children together.  

Inspired by this project, we decided to have "seasons" as an overarching theme for both schools this coming school year.  To kick off the theme, the teachers participated in a seasonal natural materials project on the first day of our professional development week.  We set out a variety of natural materials in the art room.  Pairs of teachers (one from each school, who don't normally work together) were assigned one of the four seasons and created natural arrangements to represent their season (photos above).

Throughout the year, we plan to go for regular walks around our schools' neighborhoods, making note of the changes and consistencies, following the children's curiosity and interest.  It will be interesting to see what comes up from being out in the seasons this time around!







Friday, June 22, 2012

look what i can do




look!
look at me!
look what i can do!
watch this!



did you see me jump so far?
did you see me climb so high?



see, i wrote my name.
i can write it backwards, watch.
i'll show you how i did it.




look what i made!
i made it myself.
i put it together and then it broke, but i tried again and it broke again
but then i tried a different way and this is what i made, see?
watch what it can do.
this part turns around and this part shoots lasers.
this is how it flies, watch this!



come and see what we made -
we did it together.  
i built the house and my friend made the garage.
this is where the animals live, and this is where they go potty.
if you want to come and visit, you have to knock on the door.




come and see what we are doing -
we are putting on a show.
you are the audience, you sit over there.
watch us dance, see what we can do.

this is what we're learning
this is what we're building
this is how we're growing
watch us and see

don't go away yet,
take a second look
take a closer look, lean it and examine
ask me some questions about how it works
ask me why i put that piece over there.



don't ask me what it is, because it's obvious to me -
ask me to tell you everything about it.
ask me to tell you what i was thinking about
ask me to explain the parts you don't understand

let me tell you all i have to tell
listen to my thinking, my reasoning
don't say "that's nice," and don't say "i love it,"
unless you want me to learn to only work for your approval.
tell me it looks like i worked very hard
tell me you think i must be proud of myself
tell me you notice how i kept at it, even when it was difficult,
and i figured out a way to make it work
i practiced and practiced until i learned how to do it
tell me, "remember when you didn't know how to do that?"
i will smile and say, "when i was little."
tell me you wonder what i'll learn to do next
tell me you can't wait to see

i'm making my learning visible every day
all you have to do is open your eyes
and look,
look at me.



Saturday, June 2, 2012

baby steps




I'm always surprised when I talk to people and they've never heard of the Reggio Emilia approach, even other teachers.  I've been immersed in trying to learn about the Reggio way for six years now, and the more I discover, the more I want to understand. 

I started with a vague sense of what Reggio was about: progressive, emergent, project-based... the words floated around in the ether and made me feel good about working in a preschool with these values.  I was coming out of nearly 5 years of teaching in a very tough and under-resourced public elementary school where I had to follow the mandated curriculum, measure each distinct subject area in minutes per week, and administer standardized tests to at least 25 underprivileged 7-year-olds, some with serious problems in their lives creating obstacles to their success.  Yikes!  Almost any other teaching situation would have been a reprieve, but finding a Reggio-inspired preschool to work in was a dream come true.

We started off with some inservice training; a teacher from a well-established school came and showed us images of their project work and talked about what the children had done.  It was wonderfully impressive, but I came away with a lost feeling of "Yes, but how did they do that?" 

Since those tentative beginnings, I have joined NAREA (The North American Reggio Emilia Alliance) and attended two of their conferences featuring professionals from Reggio Emilia, Italy.  We took our whole staff to Salinas to view the Wonder of Learning exhibit, an inspiring display of Reggio children's project work that tours the world. 

These days I feel like I have wondered a lot, learned a lot, and have a much better understanding of what it is that I want to understand better!  My learning comes in baby steps, some bigger than others, some backwards... something like this:

- Visit a school, conference or exhibit, or 
- Read a blog, book or article
- Get inspired
- Change something about how our school looks or how it functions
- Get bogged down in the day-to-day details of a busy classroom and fall short of intended perfection
- Look back and notice what we could have done better
- Repeat

It's a never-ending cycle but definitely a forward-moving one, and that's the kind that's preferable when you're on a journey.