Getting Outside, Learning Outside

          “Ooo! That is SO scary!”

“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere near those woods!”

“Looks haunted to me…”

Although we had just crossed a four-lane, busy street, my kindergartners’ eyes grew big. “What?” I looked around to see what in the world they were talking about.

There we were, right next to a stand of pine trees. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing aloud. “These aren’t haunted! I’m not sure I’d classify them as real woods at all. It’s just some trees growing by this busy street.”

As we continued our shortcut along a parking lot and behind some offices, I mulled over their comments. My students were mostly from neighborhoods with homes close together and plenty of sidewalks. Other than mountain trips and the occasional visit to their neighborhood or national parks, they probably didn’t have many opportunities to delve into woods. Real woods.

• We passed a retention pond. I beckoned them to walk closer to it. PLOP! We all jumped and giggled to see that a frog had heard us approach and leapt out of our way.

• We meandered around a pine tree in the grass between the doctors’ offices. It was then we heard a mother bird fussing at us. We had come too close to her babies, nesting in the branches.

• Stepping away quickly, we looked down to discover ants furiously patching up the mess we had made of their homes.

As we entered the quiet coolness of the library, my mind drifted to a myriad of thought-provoking nonfiction texts on habitats I knew I would find there. Classics by Jean Craighead George and Lynne Cherry awaited us as well as newer ones by Jason Chin. Paintings by Wendell Minor were a must as well. How delightful to discover Cindy Jenson-Elliott’s Antsy Ansel: Ansel Adams, a Life in Nature! It would definitely bring a new flavor to our photography study as well.

         

On our return trip, I noticed an awed hush from the children zig-zagging around the ant hills, craning their necks to see if Mother Bird noticed us or if the pond were teeming with life again. As we came to the busy intersection, others looked over into the stand of trees, shrugged their shoulders, and smiled.

Noting their eager eyes, I’m reminded again of their exuberance for learning. Another mission took shape - one that would provide even more opportunities for my kindergartners to interact with the world around us in meaningful, new ways.

And we would begin it that very week with powerful books and more walks in our backyard.

Talking with Children About School Safety

How in the world does a teacher talk with little kids about tough topics - strangers, death, emergency plans and intruder drills? What do we do if the unthinkable happens? If bad people burst into the school, where do we hide? Or do we run?

Since 1985, I’ve spent hour after hour with a bunch of little kids.

*I know their favorite authors and the books they'll want more copies of.

*I can predict their actions and responses to things that come up (sometimes!)

*I imagine the things that run through their heads.
Just because I’ve taught so many of them.

Hundreds of little people have come through my door, read my books and hugged my neck. I’ve grown to figure out their handwriting, interpret their drawings, sort of think like them. Parents often stress when crises come and wonder how in the world they’ll face the situation themselves - much less, tackling such tough topics with their child. Over the years, many of them have asked, “What am I supposed to say? How did YOU handle it?”

So, in that vein, I’d like to share portions of a blog entry on such tough topics, originally entitled “Thinking About Safety.” It was created with my first graders’ parents in mind this past spring on the heels of some school shootings and significant press coverage. Interestingly enough, this was the blog post that generated the most interest and engagement from their parents over our two-year loop together.

                       Hmmm… how many kids can we fit on the sofa? 

Check out the graph that greeted the children one morning in April… We typically use graphs like this (Venn diagrams and t-charts, too) to introduce a concept around which our math workshop revolves later in the day. Unbeknownst to the children though, I had more in mind than a math standard. With the continuing emphasis on safety and making sure that little kids had plans for themselves in emergency situations, my real goal was to see how many kids I could fit in little places, tucked in, hidden away… just in case. (And I actually was wondering if we could all fit into the bathroom. Yep. How do you test that?)

Well, after the graph question and the children’s predictions, we just had to check it out. So, a few children at the time, we began: “Do you think two kids can fit there?” Laughter. Of course! And the first two had plenty of space...

“How about four? Six?” Once the children realized that we r-e-a-l-l-y wanted to see how many kids we could cram on there, more excitement ensued! Lots of giggles and pleading to try another and another until all 21 squeezed onto the sofa somewhere!

(Don't you just love their 'thinking poses' for their parents to see?
An easy way for parents to bring up the conversation we shared at school!)

After the fun challenge of squeezing everybody onto the sofa, we started guessing other places where all 21 of us could fit, squeeze, or even hide. Under cubbies? In the atelier? Behind the science museum? Beneath the computers? How about... the bathroom?!?

Look where we all can tuck away - and no one
can find us! There's room for plenty more...
We did a better job fitting in the bathroom -
than we did in the photo! 

Anytime something horrific happens, I know parents shudder and wonder how we at school might approach such tough topics with little kids. This is how I approach it… 

*with an out-of-the-box, simple (seemingly-unrelated) question; 

*brainstorming; 

*creative (but, thoughtful) engagements; 

*and just a few words of reflection from anyone who wishes to share. 

We ended our conversation with “You might want to talk to your parents about other places we could hide in our classroom and at school - just in case we ever had to.”

We do have a plan - several scenarios, in fact. Thankfully, I’m married to a man who happens to be a former Secret Service agent, a retired sergeant detective and a brilliant strategist. Numerous times, he’s stood in different corners of my classroom and advised me of possibilities for squirreling one more kid safely away. I shake my head sometimes, just considering why we have to have such scenarios. But, I’m determined that your children will be safe with me. No. Matter. What.

This paragraph is how I ended my blog with parents that day:

“Thanks for thinking deeply with your child, too - and lightly chatting every now and then about little things they can do that could keep them safe wherever they go. I think sometimes with the gravity of these days, there might be a tendency to warn, caution, lecture, inadvertently scare children. But in working with kindergartners and first graders, sometimes saying less - in a light tone - may achieve more. (It’s been such a gentle topic that one little guy keeps wanting to play 'Hide from the Principal' again!)”

I think we all slept better that night. 
Just knowing there’s a plan. 
Just knowing we’ve thought through the unthinkable.

Writing Workshop on the 1st Day of Kindergarten

We make books on the first day of kindergarten. Kindergartners (and their parents) are always shocked to discover this fact. During our very first Writing Workshop, why, you can hear crickets chirp. Little ones’ eyes dart and heads duck as they wonder, “Does she think I know how to write already? I’m just five!”

Everything will have gone beautifully on this first day of school - until now. You see, I will have just read a wonderful book and we will have laughed over our favorite parts. And then I will announce, “We know you have stories of your own, too. We can’t wait to read them. In fact, why don’t you go ahead and get started on those books now - and then we’ll meet right back here to share them with each other?”

Crickets.

Some brave little soul will finally confess, “But, we don’t even know how to write!” Others nod sheepishly, eyebrows raised, wondering if they’re in the right room.

“Sure, you do!” I emphatically say. “What did you love about this book we just finished?”

Someone will timidly remark, “... Um, the pictures?’

“Yes! You can draw awesome pictures,” I’ll agree as I flip back through pictures in our read-aloud. “See how the writer makes the story flow from page to page? You can draw your pictures out like that, too.”

“I don’t know how to write any words.” Another confession.

“Really? Does anybody? … Your name? Sure! ... ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ - I’m sure they’ll be in some of your stories… ‘Love?’ Absolutely, there’s room for love in your book. What else could you do with your book?”

After a few more ideas surface about tossing in some other letters we hear and being sure that stories make sense, we’ll rally them to jump up and give it a try. Go make a book!

Some rush right over and immediately start, digging through those beautiful new boxes of crayons. Others falter a bit. Each one looks around to see what their new friends are doing, trying to get ideas from each other. My assistant and I wander around, exclaiming over the bright colors of this one and the abundant details of that one. We’ll ooh and ahh over their attempts.

Despite all the unknowns, books start emerging:

This young author is very comfortable with illustrating. Look at all those glorious details in the picture. She'll have much to say - when she becomes more confident about writing!

This is actually the last page of a young author's delightful tale having a beginning, middle and end. As she eloquently tells her story, she points to the "cursive" (on the right side): "Queen Emma had a beautiful crown. Queen Emma and the prince lived happily ever after in the mermaid sea."

This author's familiarity with letters shows through the strings of letters surrounded by color bands and a roller coaster track.

This young author captured an amazingly-detailed illustration showing characteristics of his different family members. "F" for family.

Once children saw initial letters were affirmed, they became more confident and created thoughtful designs - H (house), F (flowers).

This young author has confidence as a mathematician as well - mixing his knowledge of letters  & numbers to convey meaning: "I ate ('8') a poptart for ('4') breakfast."

This young author was enthralled with the current news of the day. She excitedly shared her story. (To read: go right to left, from bottom to top. "Gold medal.")

This young author has certain understandings about books should look like: clearly-discernible words, spaces between them, illustration reflecting the story.

About ten minutes in, I’ll tap our gong. Everyone will freeze while I’ll tell them the significance of this beautiful gong during Writing Workshop. I’ll ask for a few children to show us what they’ve done so far, holding them high and slowly showing them around as the author shares. As we all see the abundant variety of beautiful markings on paper - and how each one is celebrated right where they are - each child seems to gain much more confidence about what writing moves they can try next. I’ll thank each volunteer and then announce that we’ll take about 10 or so minutes to finish up our first Writing Workshop.

There are always the reluctant ones - afraid to make mistakes, confused about the excitement, perhaps unsure of any letters at all. I’ll invite them to walk around with me, looking over shoulders, asking kids for their inspiration, soaking it all in. Hopefully, they’ll return to their seats, at least to sketch a picture and jot their name. My goal is for each young writer to compose something - anything - on this first day in Writing Workshop.

All too soon, I touch our gong again. As the sound reverberates and lessens, I announce that our very first Writing Workshop is coming to a close. Believe it or not, there are usually groans. “Already? We just got started!”

I laugh and say, “There’s always tomorrow! We’ll write every single day during our Writing Workshop time. You’ll get a special tool tomorrow to help you keep up with all your books; but, for today, why don’t you just bring your books over here to our sharing chair? You can put them in our basket - and I’ll cherish reading them tonight!”

As little ones murmur (“...not enough  time… not finished ...why can’t we go longer”), I’ll discover a few extra minutes to showcase several samples:

*“Ooo… tell us what you did here! Where did you get that idea?”

*”What is that ‘f’ for? How did you know to write it?”

*”My goodness! Could you please explain how you made that roller coaster - just in case we want to try one ourselves?”

After each child shares, we all clap and cheer. As I get to know these children over the coming days - the hesitant ones, the artistic ones, the train-loving ones, the ones with some knowledge of books, I’ll look for picture books to engage and inspire them. Once we share meaningful experiences and enjoy some laughs together, I’ll know even more what will drive them to write.

But, this is how I start it all - this introduction of Writing Workshop to a bunch of little kids on the first day of kindergarten. This is what our new life as authors will be like:

*We’ll be inspired.

*We’ll try some things together.

*We’ll work on some things by ourselves.

*Then, we’ll finish by sharing our writing with our friends - which will inspire others.

Every. Single. Day.

(One thoughtful child notices, “It’s like a great, big circle. A circle of writing!”)

And this hesitant, messy, sweet start will be enough for now.

After all, they’re just five.

(I'm thankful to have gleaned so many wonderful ideas from amazing teachers, small and tall, near and far - particularly Dr. Heidi Mills and all my colleagues at the Center for Inquiry in Columbia, SC as well as Lucy Calkins, Katie Wood Ray and Lisa Cleaveland.)