It's hard to find a place to start. This is true for me in so many instances, and i find it to be true of my students, as well. Part of my work is to help them find places to start. Once we actually start something, it's much, much easier to go on; the fear of starting it wrong, or of an imperfect outcome, keep us from entering into the work.
Tomorrow we will find a place to start together. I have four teaching hours with my class on Wednesdays this year, and while the first hour will be somewhat truncated by the Opening Ceremony of the school, it is a substantial amount of time with which to work.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
I'm ready to plan! I have my new lesson planning book -- I always use this one. Lakeshore Learning tends to only carry it in maroon, and if they had it in combination with the record book, I'd get that, too. I like the simplicity of the design and the lack of commercial-looking clip art on the cover and pages. Just nice, clean, sepia grids for my grand plans!
Planning on the weekend feels very familiar and natural. Planning during the summer feels rather directionless and strange to me. It's always hard for me to deal with long stretches of unstructured time. Perhaps that is part of the reason I love teaching in a Waldorf school. Our time is fairly free within each lesson period. We strive to have healthy rhythm to each lesson, including times for concentrated, quiet work and for expansive activity, with meaningful transitions. Aside from that, and general indications for lesson content in each grade, the teacher is free to create lessons that will meet her students' needs. So much freedom would be overwhelming for me, and was, in my early days of teaching, without the understanding that it is up to me to create a reliable rhythm of activities within each given timeframe into which the students, and I, can relax.
For example, in fourth grade, I always started the day by greeting each student with a handshake and a hearty, "Good Morning!" This gave me a chance to hear any pressing news, to take a good look into their eyes, and to get a feeling for what kind of day each child was having so far, and how I might best meet him or her. When it was time to start, I'd close the door, sing our good morning song, and read out the schedule for the day. After this, the students would stand, light a candle, and recite together the morning verse, a sort of dedication of the day to learning and expression of gratitude for light and life.
This sequence of events, repeated each day, was extraordinarily calming for me as a teacher. No matter what kind of day I'd been having up until that point, no matter how tired I was, by the time we had finished the morning verse and moved the desks to do some concentration exercises, singing, and moving together, I felt more present, more solid, and ready to work. I saw that it had a similar effect on the children, too, and the days that we didn't follow our usual rhythm were usually more difficult and presented greater classroom management needs.
Part of my planning this weekend will be to craft an opening sequence for this new school year. The students are older and ready for new challenges, and the time we will take on this work together has shrunk from 45 minutes in the first grade, to perhaps 20 minutes. There will be some time for mental math and spelling drills, review of the previous day's work, presentation of new material, and lots of time for them to work independently.
This weekend, I will also lay out my plan for the year -- the sequence of topics for our morning lesson work each day -- and decide which blocks I will ask someone to teach while I am on maternity leave. It's a hard choice; I hate to miss out on any of it!
Planning on the weekend feels very familiar and natural. Planning during the summer feels rather directionless and strange to me. It's always hard for me to deal with long stretches of unstructured time. Perhaps that is part of the reason I love teaching in a Waldorf school. Our time is fairly free within each lesson period. We strive to have healthy rhythm to each lesson, including times for concentrated, quiet work and for expansive activity, with meaningful transitions. Aside from that, and general indications for lesson content in each grade, the teacher is free to create lessons that will meet her students' needs. So much freedom would be overwhelming for me, and was, in my early days of teaching, without the understanding that it is up to me to create a reliable rhythm of activities within each given timeframe into which the students, and I, can relax.
For example, in fourth grade, I always started the day by greeting each student with a handshake and a hearty, "Good Morning!" This gave me a chance to hear any pressing news, to take a good look into their eyes, and to get a feeling for what kind of day each child was having so far, and how I might best meet him or her. When it was time to start, I'd close the door, sing our good morning song, and read out the schedule for the day. After this, the students would stand, light a candle, and recite together the morning verse, a sort of dedication of the day to learning and expression of gratitude for light and life.
This sequence of events, repeated each day, was extraordinarily calming for me as a teacher. No matter what kind of day I'd been having up until that point, no matter how tired I was, by the time we had finished the morning verse and moved the desks to do some concentration exercises, singing, and moving together, I felt more present, more solid, and ready to work. I saw that it had a similar effect on the children, too, and the days that we didn't follow our usual rhythm were usually more difficult and presented greater classroom management needs.
Part of my planning this weekend will be to craft an opening sequence for this new school year. The students are older and ready for new challenges, and the time we will take on this work together has shrunk from 45 minutes in the first grade, to perhaps 20 minutes. There will be some time for mental math and spelling drills, review of the previous day's work, presentation of new material, and lots of time for them to work independently.
This weekend, I will also lay out my plan for the year -- the sequence of topics for our morning lesson work each day -- and decide which blocks I will ask someone to teach while I am on maternity leave. It's a hard choice; I hate to miss out on any of it!
Friday, August 29, 2008
back to school, back to blogging
I have an ambitious goal this year. Okay, truth be told, I have several. I like making lists of goals at each new turning of the year, whether for my birthday (which was a week ago), New Year's Day, or the beginning of school. I have all kinds of goals for my students, goals about courtesy and academics and social development, and I have goals for myself as a teacher, partner, and soon-to-be mother.
One goal for this year is to do more posting. I'm still working on carving out the time for that, but the more active my posting, the more likely it is that people will come and join in the exchange of ideas. The ambitious part comes in here -- I want this blog to be good. I will be working on honing my writing skills and my ability to pay attention to what is happening in the classroom, and what I am doing to effect change and to foster real learning.
Our first block of the year is Botany. We'll be exploring habitats and biomes around the world, starting with a journey up mount Denali (imaginary, unfortunately) to learn how altitude, sunlight, and warmth affect the plant life in each biome. We'll consider the interconnectedness of plant and animal life, with a special focus on the honeybee. I am excited to get started and to do some research to bring to them. One place I'm starting is with Gerbert Grohmann's The Living World of the Plants. Grohmann wrote stunningly detailed studies of various plants for adult readers, and this is his offering for young readers. I love the way he uses imagery and comparison to make the inner workings of the plants familiar and easy to understand.
I'm serving as Chair of the College of Teachers until my due date. My co-chair has stepped down, so it's just me, all the time now until mid-December. The College is a governing body within the school that makes decisions on behalf of the faculty and strives to keep our work in line with the philosophy underlying Waldorf education. It's hard, exciting work, and it means lots of meetings and interaction with colleagues and board members, which I find invigorating.
More to come. School starts next Wednesday, and there is much to do.
One goal for this year is to do more posting. I'm still working on carving out the time for that, but the more active my posting, the more likely it is that people will come and join in the exchange of ideas. The ambitious part comes in here -- I want this blog to be good. I will be working on honing my writing skills and my ability to pay attention to what is happening in the classroom, and what I am doing to effect change and to foster real learning.
Our first block of the year is Botany. We'll be exploring habitats and biomes around the world, starting with a journey up mount Denali (imaginary, unfortunately) to learn how altitude, sunlight, and warmth affect the plant life in each biome. We'll consider the interconnectedness of plant and animal life, with a special focus on the honeybee. I am excited to get started and to do some research to bring to them. One place I'm starting is with Gerbert Grohmann's The Living World of the Plants. Grohmann wrote stunningly detailed studies of various plants for adult readers, and this is his offering for young readers. I love the way he uses imagery and comparison to make the inner workings of the plants familiar and easy to understand.
I'm serving as Chair of the College of Teachers until my due date. My co-chair has stepped down, so it's just me, all the time now until mid-December. The College is a governing body within the school that makes decisions on behalf of the faculty and strives to keep our work in line with the philosophy underlying Waldorf education. It's hard, exciting work, and it means lots of meetings and interaction with colleagues and board members, which I find invigorating.
More to come. School starts next Wednesday, and there is much to do.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Our most recent class play was a great success. We triumphed over illness, scheduling, and children being on vacation. Giants were created out of paper bags, dowels, and bits of cloth.
Now we're learning about the animal world and about our own humanity. I've taught one block on this topic before, where we studied the octopus, mouse, horse, and hippo. This time, we're working with the lion, eagle, and bull, and then extrapolating to the ungulates, carnivores (comparing felines and canines), and birds. We'll be studying adaptation and habitat, and each child will write a 7 paragraph report on an animal of her choice.
and now, for sleep.
Now we're learning about the animal world and about our own humanity. I've taught one block on this topic before, where we studied the octopus, mouse, horse, and hippo. This time, we're working with the lion, eagle, and bull, and then extrapolating to the ungulates, carnivores (comparing felines and canines), and birds. We'll be studying adaptation and habitat, and each child will write a 7 paragraph report on an animal of her choice.
and now, for sleep.
Friday, March 07, 2008
what have I got?
besides the flu, which is why I'm not at school right now... I am thinking about what advantages I have had in life, beyond having my basic needs for food, clothing, shelter, and love met throughout my childhood and adulthood. What is it that has made becoming a teacher so easy? What are the resources I draw upon when creating my lessons?
First, I had a great childhood. I am an only child, the daughter of a physical therapist and a college professor-writer-flight instructor - polyglot. Reading was emphasized in our home as a desirable pastime. My parents read aloud to me every night until I was eleven, and I learned early on to bring a book with me everywhere I went. Weekends often included visits to museums, the zoo, or the library. The arts were important to my parents; I took music and dance lessons from an early age, and theater and visual arts were encouraged.
Second, I had great teachers. The public schools in my home town were under great pressure from local residents to provide first-class learning opportunities. It helps to have two liberal arts colleges in town, whose professors' children largely attend the public schools. My teachers were lively, inspired, dedicated, and caring. They taught because they loved to teach. Sure, I had mediocre teachers as well as stellar ones, but it's the good ones whom I remember.
Third, I went to summer camp. I love summer camp.
Fourth, I attended a college where independent thinking and breadth of experience were encouraged and fostered. Here, too, I met with instructors whose evident love for their fields of expertise was communicated through their teaching. I did not choose a major; looking back, one could say I concentrated in theater arts, but I only took two years of classes in the theater department. I studied math, classical Greek, Russian, history, literature, creative writing, and folklore. I participated in extra-curricular music groups and spent a year studying overseas.
The personal qualities, the gifts I received at birth, that have stood me in good stead in my chosen career are my love of stories, my enjoyment of puzzles and conundrums, and my interest in people whose experience is different from my own.
While none of these experiences or qualities are requirements for good teaching, I believe that I am a good teacher because of them. I worked hard and was supported in that work by my parents. When I wanted to be an exchange student in high school, they helped to make that possible and supported me from 8,000 miles away as I witnessed the unfolding of great historic change in the Soviet Union. When I asked questions, they took the time to answer thoughtfully, or to help me to find the answer in books or in the wisdom of community members.
I am deeply grateful for all I have received, and I view it as my duty to use these gifts to serve others. It seems sometimes that teaching in a small private school is not service enough, because I love it, and because I am blessed to work in conjunction with parents whose dedication their children is equal to my parents' to me. Perhaps it is not enough, but it is where I am right now, and I have made a commitment to the children I teach, to be with them as long as I can, and to work as hard as I can to bring them the best the world can offer them as they are ready to receive it.
First, I had a great childhood. I am an only child, the daughter of a physical therapist and a college professor-writer-flight instructor - polyglot. Reading was emphasized in our home as a desirable pastime. My parents read aloud to me every night until I was eleven, and I learned early on to bring a book with me everywhere I went. Weekends often included visits to museums, the zoo, or the library. The arts were important to my parents; I took music and dance lessons from an early age, and theater and visual arts were encouraged.
Second, I had great teachers. The public schools in my home town were under great pressure from local residents to provide first-class learning opportunities. It helps to have two liberal arts colleges in town, whose professors' children largely attend the public schools. My teachers were lively, inspired, dedicated, and caring. They taught because they loved to teach. Sure, I had mediocre teachers as well as stellar ones, but it's the good ones whom I remember.
Third, I went to summer camp. I love summer camp.
Fourth, I attended a college where independent thinking and breadth of experience were encouraged and fostered. Here, too, I met with instructors whose evident love for their fields of expertise was communicated through their teaching. I did not choose a major; looking back, one could say I concentrated in theater arts, but I only took two years of classes in the theater department. I studied math, classical Greek, Russian, history, literature, creative writing, and folklore. I participated in extra-curricular music groups and spent a year studying overseas.
The personal qualities, the gifts I received at birth, that have stood me in good stead in my chosen career are my love of stories, my enjoyment of puzzles and conundrums, and my interest in people whose experience is different from my own.
While none of these experiences or qualities are requirements for good teaching, I believe that I am a good teacher because of them. I worked hard and was supported in that work by my parents. When I wanted to be an exchange student in high school, they helped to make that possible and supported me from 8,000 miles away as I witnessed the unfolding of great historic change in the Soviet Union. When I asked questions, they took the time to answer thoughtfully, or to help me to find the answer in books or in the wisdom of community members.
I am deeply grateful for all I have received, and I view it as my duty to use these gifts to serve others. It seems sometimes that teaching in a small private school is not service enough, because I love it, and because I am blessed to work in conjunction with parents whose dedication their children is equal to my parents' to me. Perhaps it is not enough, but it is where I am right now, and I have made a commitment to the children I teach, to be with them as long as I can, and to work as hard as I can to bring them the best the world can offer them as they are ready to receive it.
Monday, January 21, 2008
time marches on without me
gentle reader,
I have been remiss. I do love tartx's blogging without obligation:
it makes sense not to apologize for not writing in a journal. at least, it makes sense to me. Also, as some of you know, I have a personal journal to which I post much more frequently.
The time has come to write another play. After last year's choice to use someone else's work, I am back to writing for my class, as I feel it is the best way to offer them a performance experience that enriches and extends their work with the subject matter, both the explicit lessons on myth, history, mathematics, geography, or nature studies, and the implicit lessons on how to be a human being, how to express their full being and attain to the full stature offered us.
First, however, I want to get a particularly tenacious monkey off my back: my MSEd Thesis. This particular primate has been digging his pointy little fingers into my neck for the last 5 1/2 years, and it's time to shake him loose. To that end, I am dedicating this Martin Luther King Jr day to working on my thesis. I sincerely believe that education towards freedom is the key to creating and realizing a world in which people are judged by the content of their character.
I have been remiss. I do love tartx's blogging without obligation:
it makes sense not to apologize for not writing in a journal. at least, it makes sense to me. Also, as some of you know, I have a personal journal to which I post much more frequently.
The time has come to write another play. After last year's choice to use someone else's work, I am back to writing for my class, as I feel it is the best way to offer them a performance experience that enriches and extends their work with the subject matter, both the explicit lessons on myth, history, mathematics, geography, or nature studies, and the implicit lessons on how to be a human being, how to express their full being and attain to the full stature offered us.
First, however, I want to get a particularly tenacious monkey off my back: my MSEd Thesis. This particular primate has been digging his pointy little fingers into my neck for the last 5 1/2 years, and it's time to shake him loose. To that end, I am dedicating this Martin Luther King Jr day to working on my thesis. I sincerely believe that education towards freedom is the key to creating and realizing a world in which people are judged by the content of their character.
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