I opened my plan book and couldn't contain my smile. There is something deeply exciting to me as I look at this blank book which I get to fill. It represents a year of life for my soon-to-be students and I. Yes, there's certain curriculum I must cover. But how we do it is up to me. I see these blank pages as history in the making. What will these children remember and take away from their experiences in our class this year? What experiences can I provide them which would be most impactful, meaningful, memorable? What, if remembered past the threshold of my door, could shape their thinking for a life of contribution to the world? I like to teach using 'backward design': determining what the end result which I hope to accomplish, and setting a series of goals which will lead me there. I want to create a memorable year full of meaningful experiences for the young inquisitive minds that will be livening up my classroom in 2 weeks from today! Your ideas will be helpful as I'm planning the year:, so feel free to comment!:
What do you remember about 2nd grade (or elementary school)?
What activities/experiences from then impacted you the most in your life?An older rambling that I didn't post, but is on the same topic:I LOVE the Fall! Just the anticipation of it, being summer and all, is very exciting to me. (Similarly, Thursday was my favorite day of the week when I was younger--because it was SO FUN to be in anticipation of Friday. Odd? Admittedly. Nerdy? Perhaps.) Each summer I'm excited for the coming school year. This was true of me as a student, and continues to be so now as an "educator". (I am still a learner. Teaching is learning for me, and I think that's one of the major reasons why I love, love, love it.)
I love learning about effective teaching strategies. I love listening to children and learning how they process things (which is surprisingly more related than it often sounds without asking further of their reasoning =o) ). I love, with a passion, seeing their "light" go on as they grasp a concept. My favorite part of teaching is seeing them apply a skill they've learned and find that it works, and realize they are the better for it in some way. (This is true of academic as well as social skills.)
However, I have a confession to make. There is something that I have considered to be a hidden agenda in my vision of my classroom. The strategies and methods I employ, as well as lessons I select and develop for the children in my classroom have always been built around it. More than the core curriculum itself, I have focused on my attention on it. I have spent 4 successive summers learning about it, and much of my time in between. And each school year my kids are both blatantly and subtly indoctrinated with my pet interest: Character Development.
Character development plays an integral part in education. Ezra Taft Benson said:
| “ | Education must have its roots in moral principles. If we lose sight of that fact in our attempt to match our educational system against that of the materialists, we shall have lost far more than we could possibly gain." |
I believe him. Every poem I choose for their ongoing poetry folders which they collect and take home at the end of the year (okay--
most. Some are just silly.), every story I read aloud, every mini-lesson at Morning Meeting at the rug, every thought I hang up on the board for them to see when their eyes are wandering, every poster I hang on my wall, every person in history whose life I choose to teach them about--every athlete, singer, philanthropist, activist... I have my hidden agenda in mind. Why this story? Why this person? Why this assignment? What would I have these impressionable minds think on today? How will this contribute to their strength of character? If they remember this past next summer, what is the impact this may have on their lives? What can I say to them in this moment to support my hidden agenda =o)?
Last year I got materials from Character Counts and based mini-lessons on their 6 pillars program: Trustworthiness, Respect, Responsibility, Fairness, Caring, & Citizenship. I got these incredible posters that look like those awesome billboards along the freeway--"Determination", "Perseverance". Mother Teresa, Desmond Tutu, Abraham Lincoln, the girl whose arm was bit off by a shark...you know the ones. They were so big and awesome I laminated them and put them around the cafeteria all year. (I'm the teacher rep on the executive PTA board--last year and this one again--and their theme for an activity was "Heroes". I wanted more than Spiderman and Super Pink Girl gracing the walls...) This year I am excited to use the materials prepared by my friend's dad, George Rogers. He kindly took the time to share the materials with me and answer my questions on what he recommends for best implementation and lasting learning. He's provided these to school districts and presented to faculties around the state. I felt pretty lucky to get to listen and talk with him one on one in his living room!
More than remembering their math facts, important as they are, I want a positive learning environment of my classroom. Building a community of learners and an atmosphere of curiosity, problem solving, support, collaboration,
appreciation for others and their ideas (even more than "
tolerance", which has never been my favorite way of describing my interactions with people who believe differently than myself, as it, at least to me, has an air of superiority and patronization)...this is of greater importance than the subject of the learning. (Don't tell "them" I said that.) What we learn is not nearly as important as to what end we intend to use it. Assimilating facts is fine, but without a framework of ethics to build it into, what purpose does it serve? Besides. Realistically. The children who pass through my classroom will not remember exactly what they learned, but they will remember how they felt when they were there doing it. Teaching them to think is fine. Helping them develop HOW to think is where my interests more greatly lie.
Quite honestly, those teaching moments come more often spontaneously than carefully planned. One example: one of my girls proudly brought a large, beautiful snow globe for sharing one Friday morning. Though she'd wrapped it carefully in a towel, later in the day (at an inappropriate time and against the rules) she got it out to show to a friend again and, as you have likely predicted, dramatically ended its existence in a million shattered pieces on the floor. I pause, as much as I can remember to, before responding to situations in my classroom, and try to speedily decide which way of handling it will be most impactful on this child. At that moment in that situation I thought of my mom and knew what to do.
"Beth, I know that was special to you. I'm so sorry that happened! Do you know what? When I was little I broke a lot of my moms special things and I felt really bad. Do you know what she would say to me?"
"snuffle, snuffle. What?" (If you can get a kid thinking, especially asking a question, they calm down really quickly. Relatively.)
"They are just things. You are more important to me. It's just a thing."
Then we cleaned it up. I didn't notice, but a mom was listening. I had her support 110% the rest of the year.
Is there a better job than this?! I'm tellin' ya, I don't think there's ONE.
(Though, on a different note, I'm interested in something that I think just may be equivalent...my new spare-time-thought-occupier and Masters degree interest!! I'm very glad I didn't get accepted to UPenn. I never would have looked into this if I had. "Where God closes a door He opens a window"! Here's my window. I love windows.)
