Arts, Environment and the Child: Walking the Wheel of the Seasons

My role as a volunteer in the first grade class is to lead a small group of students in reading the week's story. But the group is usually mixed; of children who can read and children who can not read. Those who can read get bored and try to help those who struggle, and this help seems to make the struggling students feel embarassed. I remind them them to be patient with and respectful with one another. How do I effectively advocate for and support those who can't read in a mixed group setting?

Writing expository paragraphs in grade 1?!? The teacher commented that she didn't know what an expository paragraph was until she was required to teach it. Is this a requirement for WASL tests? I learned that the school district tells the teachers what their curriculum is to be and what their students should be able to do by the end of the year. The classroom doesn't have much room for circle space; it seems cluttered.

The teacher notes: The kids aren't able to read this week's story very well. Remedy: Have them read it over and over during reading hour. Outcome: Kids get bored very quickly. How else could a teacher help students in reading comprehension/word recognition? This approach seems unproductive. Students are antsy and impatient. The story is different this week; it has less direct illustrations--they don't give hints toward the sentence on the page. As students look to the pictures, they're given no guidance. Repetition is important, but monotony leads to disinterest.

I'm overwhelmed by how many books I want to read. Spent two hours plucking books from library shelves, checked out about 15, only to take them home and realize I realistically have to choose one or two to delve into. I wonder if this frustration is an effect of internet culture; so much "information" is at our fingertips without depth beneath it.

I am sick and exhausted. Stayed home from class today yet had a hard time allowing myself to rest; instead I worried about class time missed. Allowance to heal is underappreciated these days. Winter time is a slow, healing time--yet our hyperactive culture pushes us to keep going at the same pace. I understand why people get depressed this time of year. We're not living our natural seasonal inclinations.

I notice that as the children are reading or trying to read, they look to my face for approval.  Part of this support they need in order to trust their instincts, which are usually correct.  Another part, I fear, is a manifestation of a fear of being wrong, and thus looking to the authority for a sense of whether they’re on the right track or not. 

In general, Alfie Kohn (author of The Schools our Children Deserve: Moving beyond traditional classrooms and 'tougher standards') makes his point relentlessly, so much so that it’s repetitive, bordering on overkill.  I sense his frustration over the obvious fact that public education as we know it is suppressing children’s natural energy and curiosity and replacing them with stress and possibly disinterest and passivity.  As I am appalled by the state of education as Kohn describes it, I am also strangely comforted, for he describes my education in middle and high schools.  There’s reason why I felt like I didn’t know how to learn when I entered college at age 18…I truly didn’t!  I knew how to memorize for a test and get good grades and make teachers and adults praise me.  I lacked a genuine connection with learning for myself.  Reading Kohn’s book reminds me that no, I’m not stupid (as I once believed), I was just trained to “learn” in a way that actually steered me away from true learning. 

Today the children became bored quite quickly. Instead of forcing them to read the story repeatedly as we usually do, I asked them questions about their recent field trip to the Burke Museum, where they saw a fossil exhibit. They shared stories of digging for bones and finding dinosaur teeth, of ice ages and warmer ages. Quote of the day, shared by a girl with sparkling eyes and curly dark hair: "Once I flew in an airplane and stuck my hand out the window and caught some cloud and brought it home with me." Wow. Second place: "Do you eat your boogers?"

Today I attended the Tai Ji workshop with Chungliang Al Huang.  Wow!  I appreciate how he teaches through the body.  I intellectualize life experience far too much, so much so that I become almost amputated from my bodily awareness and experience. In the first hour of the workshop I was uncomfortable for this reason; I wasn’t accustomed to learning through my body, to being truly present in my body. I felt disconnected; I was observing myself standing in the longhouse with the other participants. When the first free dance happened, my awareness shifted.  I was no longer watching myself dance.  I was dancing.  What a joyous realization!  Learning about Chinese characters further convinced me of the limited nature of the English language.  Chungliang Al Huang not only drew the essence of chi, tao, tai and ji.  He danced these essences.  My body responded to the character and to his movement of these concepts; I felt my face lighten with understanding—not just head understanding, but whole body understanding.  I feel as if my eyes now open wider—I am experiencing the world with new clarity and wonder. 

The poetry workshop with Red Pine was fascinating.  How different would life be as a hermit in the mountains of China?  I feel incredibly fortunate to have the opportunity to learn of other ways of life; of other ways organizing the priorities of society.  My mind expands with each new possibility.  In Chinese, poetry is translated as “words from the heart.”  A real poem is non-linguistic.  It is emotional, it is energy.  Reflecting on Red Pine’s timeline of Chinese poets, I reaffirm that our culture is young.  We’re just a baby compared to the wise history of China.  This gives me hope for learning and change.  

Remedios Varo, Hermit

there is another way?
another definition?
I am blessed by an introduction
but may I look into your eyes?
can I see from within your history?
could I share with you, learn from you?

it’s just another way, She says. 

the moon is shining but I can’t take my eyes off the plum blossom.

Welcome to the Library at Pioneer Elementary School.  The librarian, Julie, is a close family friend; I consider her my aunt.  She has been an educator for as long as I’ve known her; she is retiring next year.  Before she received her librarian certificate she taught kindergarten.  I came to observe her reading group.  Pioneer uses a program called Read Well.  They chose this program over the district-chosen program, which I’m observing in LP Brown. 

The reading program is very structured; the children know how the reading hour is spent.  I think this relaxes them (well, it relaxed me).  The first grade classes (2) are split into 7 different levels during the hour of 9:30-10:30am every school day.  I’m impressed that they scale down the group size to about 6-7 students to each reading teacher (classroom teachers and assistants).  Julie’s group is the most advanced of the groups.  This is apparent; they read smoothly and are identifying parts of speech I didn’t know existed! 

Lots of handouts and instruction to refer back to the text to make sure you get the right answer.  This is teaching comprehension and self-reliance.  I appreciate how Julie takes time to give feedback and encouragement when a student stops to think before answering.  This is a calming and empowering practice.  Julie shares that she wants this to be a safe learning space.  It doesn’t matter if they make mistakes.  Mistakes are learning opportunities.

Today I observed one of the lower reading groups.  The structure was much more basic, but what I find inspiring about this program is that the units are universal among the levels of groups—in other words, the instructor can increase or decrease difficulty/challenge as appropriate with the needs of the students.  It seems that having the same stories/papers/etc. would be more inclusive for students.  A lot of pronunciation practice, reading out loud, practicing letter sounds (skill-builders, they like to call them).

This morning I observed in Mrs. Ryan’s first grade during reading time. Wow.  She is an inspiration. Experienced teachers have a presence I can’t describe—they float through their classrooms; teaching is second nature.  I am in awe of her comfort and effectiveness as she leads 20 or more students through the day.  Teaching is an art, I learned today. 

instinct : life

intuition : love

insight : light

inspiration : let

WOW.

"Write not to be understood, but to understand yourself and your experience." -Hirsh

Tonight I celebrated full moon, friendship, wisdom, wonder, and renewal. I experienced the power of ritual. My dear friend and I trekked out to the beach. The moon came and went, when not visible she illuminated the overcast sky. While walking in moonlight we were accompanied by moon moths, fluttering about, as we cautiously neared the ocean. Goddesses of the forest. Low tide at the beach, surprisingly warm for this time of year. We lit a candle, and listened. Seagulls squawked across the inlet, seals groaned.

As we sat, entranced by the active night, a shadow slinked before us, nose down in the low tide. Fox had come to welcome us into this the year of the dog! Beach comber of the night.

Tonight I experienced my new year. Not the lunar new year, not Janurary 1st, but a renewal felt within my soul. I am thankful for the universal energy of which I am a part. I am thankful each time I remember that anything is possible.

Thoughts on third grade:

Wow,  these kids are independent—they know  what they need to be doing.  One special-needs child demands much attention:  Mimi shares with me that when visitors come, they tend to gravitate toward her—even though ALL of the students desire that special attention that comes when guests visit.  Spelling, writing, biographies of historical figures.  Reading in front of the class. 

Room layout is inspiring!  I appreciate the simplicity!  It is artistic, as she’s an artist herself.  Blocks of color; an artist corner with rotating artist focus. 

Did I learn to write in cursive in 3rd grade?  I don’t remember.  Is that normal for 3rd grade? 

(I appreciate the independance or 3rd graders, as it opens the door for more intellectual exploration with them)

A Lesson in Perspective

Rowan
2 feet tall, 2 years old; this girl glows.
We walk and discover tunnels (drainage ditches).
Lakes, rivers (puddles, streams).
We climb mountains (a slight incline).
We enter wildernesses, explore leaves, peek into others’ lands (yards, bus stops).
We discover a phone booth.
We meet chickens and a friendly black cat.
“We can’t go any further,” I say.
“Why not?” she asks.
“Well, that’s someone else’s property.”
“What is property?” (what IS property?…now that’s a question.)

Thoughts on the Painted Word:

I’m learning backwards about project organization through this experience. Learning from mistakes is a most meaningful opportunity, if one can be receptive to the available wisdom that accompanies falling down. I am learning about of art and dance of communication.

As I return artwork to their artists, I realize this: taking care of someone's art is like taking care of someone's child. I know this stress from working many years in childcare: The biggest fear of a childcare provider is losing a child.

In other words, I am relieved to have returned these children back to their parents.

I was worried that I wouldn’t have enough help to dismantle the show from the library.  My morning was tense and my shoulders were tight.  Ah, how the universe answers: Throughout the day and evening, folks appeared at perfect times!  I ran into Maria just as I was calling her, Aldo appeared and helped take down the balcony pieces, Jamie and Hannah came to help.  I am again reminded of the blessings of serendipity.  From this miraculous day I have learned to trust life.

The electricity was out at LP Brown this morning, so the children were excitable.  Heather had been filling my space for the last couple of weeks; the children were happy to see me, as I was to see them.  In giving me directions to our activity, the teacher calls one example “bad” because it isn’t ordered correctly.  This is frustrating for me to hear, as the students are definitely within earshot and can see whose book is “wrong.”  I am troubled by her use of such negative words.  Today she shares with me her frustration about one boy who is special-needs, so much so that he can’t read with the class, but the special-needs teacher doesn’t have time to tutor him.  So the teacher sends him out into the hall because he deals with his learning difficulties by acting out.  I am troubled by this lack of attention being paid to needy children.  How is this action affecting the rest of the class and, especially, this one child?  How will this experience shape his development and his interest in learning?

These were my individual goals for the reading seminar group:

1. Gain familiarity with the current education system so as to move toward deciphering where I would like to be involved in that system.

2. Share experiences and readings with others. 

The seminar group has fallen through for the most part due to schedule challenges.  In conversation with Heather and in readings, I’ve been reminded of how dichotomous we tend to be—either we won or lost, we achieved or failed, we are progressive or traditional, we teach phonics or whole language. 

The most success and learning comes from compromise, from within the middle ground, from the grey area between extremes.  I mourned the inability for this group to form this quarter, and I now see that from this “failed” experience I’ve learned many things, including:
Group organization is challenging! 
Wisdom is not learned through books. 
Winter is a time for thinking and dreaming, not for manifestation.
Learning is a slow, messy, exquisite process.