Mr. Lipstick and I are getting ready to head to Peru for our international no-baby trip of '09. We made a deal when we got engaged that we would leave the country once a year until we had babies. aka- a no baby trip. Our year-round school schedule is perfect for this plan. So far, so good. The first year took us to Ireland for a friend's wedding (where a leprechaun stole the memory card of my camera), the second year took us to Switzerland where I met my Swiss cousins, and this year Mr. Lipstick decided he wanted to go somewhere that would allow us to use our Spanish.
"Our Spanish" as though we have some to call our own.
I started taking Spanish in 8th grade and continued until my sophomore year of college. 7 years of hard studying and I can ask where the bathroom is, tell a kindergartner to keep their hands to themselves, put their eyes on me, and that their work is very good. Not in actual sentences, mind you, or with proper grammar, but I find that being very expressive with ones hands makes up for any oral miscommunication. Right?
So I'm not really comfortable with this idea of "using our Spanish". I've done just fine in countries where I didn't speak the language- Greece, China, Italy, Switzerland. I've learned the basic survival words, relied on hand-motions, and kept a translation guide nearby. Now that I'm going to a country where I have a 7 year history of speaking their language I'm a little nervous. I'm convinced we'll be nodding along happily with a native speaker, thinking we know exactly what they are saying, and before we know it we'll be on a bus to some random town and our passports will be gone.
(I'm an expert at imagining the worst possible situations. It's my super power. I try to keep it quiet as much as possible, but sometimes it slips out. I'll make my own child miserable one day.)
So to prepare for this language immersion I've set my GPS to the Spanish settings. I've tried reading novels in Spanish and spent parent/teacher conferences listening very carefully to see what I can pick up. (not much- I am screwed.)
I also tried to convince the children I teach to teach me everything they know. I took advantage of our afternoon dramatic play center to get them to teach me Spanish. This did not go so well. Little Carlos yelling, "caliente!" when he ironed the clothes on his own body was about as far as I got. The children are not all Spanish speakers so the poor Vietnamese, Korean, Arabic, and English speakers just wanted to get on with play- stop the boring vocabulary lesson.
And the children who did speak Spanish were kind of confused with why I'd want to learn it anyway. After all, they were working so hard to speak English, why was I repeating the words they were saying? And, as anyone who works with 5 year olds knows, they are not the pinnacle of perfect diction. Especially if they have actually been diagnosed with a Speech/Language impairment. So yes, I am headed off to Peru clueless that I may be saying words with a stutter or a lisp- thinking I'm pronouncing it just like Carlos taught me.
On top of this I am just not a strong auditory learner. My auditory memory and auditory discrimination are pretty awful, so I spent a lot of time sipping imaginary tea in dramatic play pronouncing Spanish words only to have the children glance nervously at each other, then repeat the word again, not knowing if I was correcting their diction, or if they should correct me. I was, after all, the teacher- how did they know I wasn't trying to teach them to speak in Spanish. And how does one, at 5, correct a teacher when the teacher is butchering their native language?
So, the language lessons in dramatic play failed, and I'll be getting on a plane tomorrow to plunge into using a language I may or may not speak with a lisp, incorrect grammar, and large hand gestures. They're going to think I have my own special needs. Perhaps I will pretend I don't know this "our Spanish" of which Mr. Lipstick speaks...
Friday, October 9, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
it's that important
We were confused why another parent was waiting outside our door with her daughter- her conference was not for another 45 minutes and typically parents are running late- not early. We watched her walk slowly into our classroom, her hand on her full, expectant belly. She turned to her 6 year old daughter with instructions to tell us why she was early- she had to go to the Dr's today- to maybe have the baby- so she could not come at the planned time. Was now OK?
We told her we could meet later- no big deal- to go, take care of herself and her baby, our conference about life in first grade could wait.
She looked confused for a moment, and hurt, and through her six year old daughter's translations we learned she'd come because she thought this was very important.
So important that she lowered herself into the tiny blue first grade chair, trying to make herself comfortable.
Her daughter listened carefully to our English remarks and then carefully choose her Spanish words to tell her mother. Her mother's eyes grew wide with pride as she listened to her daughter translate the wonderful things her daughter is doing in school. "I'm so proud of you" she almost whispered between the pauses.
I could feel the tears welling up in my own eyes- this mom who thought our conference was so important that she needed to walk to the school on the very day she may have a baby.
Then she turned to her daughter with another question to translate, "Does she sit quietly, and listen, and do her work, and work hard?"
Her daughter's face scrunched up so mom repeated her question. The girl looked at her mother and then at us- did she really have to translate that? Was she going to translate an honest answer? Before she could go through the moral contemplation in her head we jumped in (surprisingly having understood enough Spanish to know what mom was asking), "yes! she listens, she does her job and she works hard!"
The young translator grinned with pride and her mother turned and once again said, "I am so proud of you."
I love my school. I love that this little six year old girl will never doubt the importance of school.
We told her we could meet later- no big deal- to go, take care of herself and her baby, our conference about life in first grade could wait.
She looked confused for a moment, and hurt, and through her six year old daughter's translations we learned she'd come because she thought this was very important.
So important that she lowered herself into the tiny blue first grade chair, trying to make herself comfortable.
Her daughter listened carefully to our English remarks and then carefully choose her Spanish words to tell her mother. Her mother's eyes grew wide with pride as she listened to her daughter translate the wonderful things her daughter is doing in school. "I'm so proud of you" she almost whispered between the pauses.
I could feel the tears welling up in my own eyes- this mom who thought our conference was so important that she needed to walk to the school on the very day she may have a baby.
Then she turned to her daughter with another question to translate, "Does she sit quietly, and listen, and do her work, and work hard?"
Her daughter's face scrunched up so mom repeated her question. The girl looked at her mother and then at us- did she really have to translate that? Was she going to translate an honest answer? Before she could go through the moral contemplation in her head we jumped in (surprisingly having understood enough Spanish to know what mom was asking), "yes! she listens, she does her job and she works hard!"
The young translator grinned with pride and her mother turned and once again said, "I am so proud of you."
I love my school. I love that this little six year old girl will never doubt the importance of school.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
the 7 year old in me is sticking my tongue out at the world
For those of you who enjoyed your August- enjoyed sleeping in, relaxing, going on trips, or staying in your pjs 'til 11 while we were working our tails off at the think tank- it's our turn. Now you'll be dragging yourself to work every day for the next two weeks while we get to play.
Nothing is as relaxing or rewarding as October intersession. The air is crisp, the leaves are changing, and the tourists have all left DC so it's actually possible to enjoy a week day at the museusm, and I don't have to go to work. It's my turn for the pjs 'til 11, sleeping in, shopping during the day, or reading a book for pleasure at a coffee shop.
We have two days of parent conferences and then we're off for two beautiful weeks.
I really have the best job in the world.
Nothing is as relaxing or rewarding as October intersession. The air is crisp, the leaves are changing, and the tourists have all left DC so it's actually possible to enjoy a week day at the museusm, and I don't have to go to work. It's my turn for the pjs 'til 11, sleeping in, shopping during the day, or reading a book for pleasure at a coffee shop.
We have two days of parent conferences and then we're off for two beautiful weeks.
I really have the best job in the world.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
task analysis, scissors, and rock stars
Task analysis was something that was taught to us over and over again in grad school. It's simply breaking down larger tasks into smaller pieces to make them teachable and achievable. This sounds like what all teachers do every day, but it generally refers to more specific tasks like how to use a microwave or how to brush your teeth. (During the summer of '08 when I regrettably took 3 grad classes, all 3 classes made us do the same activity- compose a task analysis on teeth brushing. i believe one class came up with 21 steps)
In a lot of ways it's something you'd use working with students with intellectual and developmental disabilities, but it comes in handy with students with autism since they tend to be very literal- it reminds me to teach each step and make no assumptions. And, with kindergartners you never know when you're going to break down the most basic tasks.
The other day splatypus and I were tag-teaming it with one of our little friends. (I LOVE co-teaching because it means one teacher can work with a student for awhile and just when the teacher thinks she's reached the end of her patience and she is about to run out the door and never return to teaching she can look at the co-teacher and say, "your turn" and the other teacher can magically swoop in, full of energy and not yet grinding her teeth. This saves a lot in dental bills and advil, and rescues our students from our frustrated outbursts of "how many times do I have to tell you?" My partner-in-crime and I have this down to a science. All it takes is making eye contact across the room and we know when to switch.)
Back to our little friend who was having trouble using scissors. It's very possible she never saw a pair of scissors before she walked into the classroom in the beginning of August. So, we were taking turns slowly showing her how to hold the scissors and cut. A lot of times children just learn from watching others use scissors and copying what they see, and occasionally children may need to have certain steps demonstrated or corrected. This little friend required a bit more.
Take a moment and try to list each step you'd need to include when teaching someone to use scissors.....
I have-
-Pick up the scissors
-Turn them so the blade points away from you and the handles are straight up and down with the larger of the two holes at the top
-Put your thumb in the hole on the top
-Put your fingers (at this point I didn't really care which fingers) into the hole on the bottom
-Stretch your fingers away from your thumb to "open" the scissors
-Pick up the piece of paper you want to cut with your other hand
-Put that piece of paper between the blades of the scissors
-Bring your fingers and thumb together to "close" the scissors
-Repeat the opening and closing of the scissors while moving the scissors slowly away from you, a little further on the paper each time
-Stop and check- is it cutting the paper? If not, check if you are holding the scissors up and down and if you are remembering to open and close the scissors each time
-When you have finished cutting the paper STOP opening and closing the scissors
-Put the scissors on the table
-Take your fingers out of the holes
Give you a headache?
Now, try to do all that in Spanish.
Now, try to do all that in Spanish with other kindergartners arguing over the correct pronunciation of abrir and cerrar so you have to stop and explain to them that people from El Salvador and people from Bolivia may say their words a little bit differently, but it's all still Spanish.
It was at that moment that I sat back and thought, wow, splatypus and I, and all teachers really, are just amazing. The things we can do- all at one time, with no planning, in different languages. We rock.
In a lot of ways it's something you'd use working with students with intellectual and developmental disabilities, but it comes in handy with students with autism since they tend to be very literal- it reminds me to teach each step and make no assumptions. And, with kindergartners you never know when you're going to break down the most basic tasks.
The other day splatypus and I were tag-teaming it with one of our little friends. (I LOVE co-teaching because it means one teacher can work with a student for awhile and just when the teacher thinks she's reached the end of her patience and she is about to run out the door and never return to teaching she can look at the co-teacher and say, "your turn" and the other teacher can magically swoop in, full of energy and not yet grinding her teeth. This saves a lot in dental bills and advil, and rescues our students from our frustrated outbursts of "how many times do I have to tell you?" My partner-in-crime and I have this down to a science. All it takes is making eye contact across the room and we know when to switch.)
Back to our little friend who was having trouble using scissors. It's very possible she never saw a pair of scissors before she walked into the classroom in the beginning of August. So, we were taking turns slowly showing her how to hold the scissors and cut. A lot of times children just learn from watching others use scissors and copying what they see, and occasionally children may need to have certain steps demonstrated or corrected. This little friend required a bit more.
Take a moment and try to list each step you'd need to include when teaching someone to use scissors.....
I have-
-Pick up the scissors
-Turn them so the blade points away from you and the handles are straight up and down with the larger of the two holes at the top
-Put your thumb in the hole on the top
-Put your fingers (at this point I didn't really care which fingers) into the hole on the bottom
-Stretch your fingers away from your thumb to "open" the scissors
-Pick up the piece of paper you want to cut with your other hand
-Put that piece of paper between the blades of the scissors
-Bring your fingers and thumb together to "close" the scissors
-Repeat the opening and closing of the scissors while moving the scissors slowly away from you, a little further on the paper each time
-Stop and check- is it cutting the paper? If not, check if you are holding the scissors up and down and if you are remembering to open and close the scissors each time
-When you have finished cutting the paper STOP opening and closing the scissors
-Put the scissors on the table
-Take your fingers out of the holes
Give you a headache?
Now, try to do all that in Spanish.
Now, try to do all that in Spanish with other kindergartners arguing over the correct pronunciation of abrir and cerrar so you have to stop and explain to them that people from El Salvador and people from Bolivia may say their words a little bit differently, but it's all still Spanish.
It was at that moment that I sat back and thought, wow, splatypus and I, and all teachers really, are just amazing. The things we can do- all at one time, with no planning, in different languages. We rock.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
read to me
1) Are these not the cutest?
2) Do you not want to sneak into a hospital and put one on every baby so that the mother takes it home with at least 1 instruction?
3) Just how much trouble would I get into if I did that?
that's what i've been saying!! (and what we've been doing)
After running across the new book NurtureShock on many different sites including Chip Wood's blog Yardsticks I knew I had to read it. I'm a little more than half-way through, but I'm loving it. To be honest I feel like I'm reading a book about my school, or at least written by my school. It's not necessarily new information, but it is great to see the brain research behind what we are already putting into action.
The first chapter is about the power of praise, and repeats what we've learned from Mindset by Carol Dweck. Dweck found that vague praise like "good job" or "you're so smart" actually has an inverse effect on students causing them not to try. Instead, she argues praise should be specific. We should be praising children's work habits, noticing exactly what they worked hard on and details we notice in their work. Last year I participated in a teachers-as-readers group with this book with our incredibly talented gifted and talented teacher.
NurtureShock looks into detail about Dweck's study on praise. Some of the interesting points that struck me were:
1) By 12 children think that getting praised by a teacher means you have maxed out your ability, while getting constructive criticism means you have the ability to do better. By then students have noticed that teachers frequently praise those students they think tried their best but couldn't do it, and will push other students to go farther.
2) Children who get frequent, generic praise are more likely to work harder on maintaining their image through tearing others down.
3)Children with frequent praise get the message that they have an innate ability. Once life gets harder for them they start to believe their previous praise was all a lie and that they've really just "been dumb all along". Their frequent, generic praise as children never gave them a strategy for handling failure.
4) Brain research shows that areas of the brain can actually switch on if there is a lack of immediate reward to remind the brain to keep working, a reward will be coming. Delayed gratification can actually be conditioned into the brain in order to encourage us to gain perseverance.
This is a shift in thinking I feel like my school has been making for awhile. Between Responsive Classroom's training on praise and books like The Power of Our Words by Paula Dunton (we're reading it as a school this year) we're really examining the language we use with our students. We've also read Mindset. We even have a strategy lab where we take our classes to play brain games (like games you can get at the ThinkFun company) where we talk about how to use strategies, praise children for their strategic thinking, and encourage children to transfer their strategic thinking from the strategy lab to the world around them. And of course we're also encouraging this type of thinking with Thinkblocks from ThinkWorks. I knew what we were doing was great, but knowing that we are actually conditioning their brains to accept delayed gratification is really pretty incredible.
The second chapter in the book is about sleep, how our children are missing an hour of sleep compared to children in the past, and all of the problems the lack of sleep is contributing to. More on this later...
The first chapter is about the power of praise, and repeats what we've learned from Mindset by Carol Dweck. Dweck found that vague praise like "good job" or "you're so smart" actually has an inverse effect on students causing them not to try. Instead, she argues praise should be specific. We should be praising children's work habits, noticing exactly what they worked hard on and details we notice in their work. Last year I participated in a teachers-as-readers group with this book with our incredibly talented gifted and talented teacher.
NurtureShock looks into detail about Dweck's study on praise. Some of the interesting points that struck me were:
1) By 12 children think that getting praised by a teacher means you have maxed out your ability, while getting constructive criticism means you have the ability to do better. By then students have noticed that teachers frequently praise those students they think tried their best but couldn't do it, and will push other students to go farther.
2) Children who get frequent, generic praise are more likely to work harder on maintaining their image through tearing others down.
3)Children with frequent praise get the message that they have an innate ability. Once life gets harder for them they start to believe their previous praise was all a lie and that they've really just "been dumb all along". Their frequent, generic praise as children never gave them a strategy for handling failure.
4) Brain research shows that areas of the brain can actually switch on if there is a lack of immediate reward to remind the brain to keep working, a reward will be coming. Delayed gratification can actually be conditioned into the brain in order to encourage us to gain perseverance.
This is a shift in thinking I feel like my school has been making for awhile. Between Responsive Classroom's training on praise and books like The Power of Our Words by Paula Dunton (we're reading it as a school this year) we're really examining the language we use with our students. We've also read Mindset. We even have a strategy lab where we take our classes to play brain games (like games you can get at the ThinkFun company) where we talk about how to use strategies, praise children for their strategic thinking, and encourage children to transfer their strategic thinking from the strategy lab to the world around them. And of course we're also encouraging this type of thinking with Thinkblocks from ThinkWorks. I knew what we were doing was great, but knowing that we are actually conditioning their brains to accept delayed gratification is really pretty incredible.
The second chapter in the book is about sleep, how our children are missing an hour of sleep compared to children in the past, and all of the problems the lack of sleep is contributing to. More on this later...
Thursday, October 1, 2009
dirty faces
mrs. lipstick?
friend, i'm listening to your teacher read the story. eyes forward please.
but- but- you have brown dirt on your nose. she says with wonder, leaning in to study my face.
what?
an immediate check in the mirror reveals nothing but freckles - something fairly rare at our diverse school. it was that exact moment i realized i'd forgotten make-up this morning.
*sigh* it's been that kind of week.
friend, i'm listening to your teacher read the story. eyes forward please.
but- but- you have brown dirt on your nose. she says with wonder, leaning in to study my face.
what?
an immediate check in the mirror reveals nothing but freckles - something fairly rare at our diverse school. it was that exact moment i realized i'd forgotten make-up this morning.
*sigh* it's been that kind of week.
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