An Inquiry That Changed Us: Our Kindergarten Water Movie, 8 Years Later

I didn't want to make a movie.

I didn't have a clue of how to make a movie.

But, the kids' new learning on water kept propelling us from one cool engagement to the next.

Before I knew it, they were begging me, "YOU'VE just got to do something about this, Mrs. Barnes! Think of it - this school in Nicaragua has NO water! You have to DO something!" (They truly couldn't understand how children everywhere didn't just get fresh water - like we did. It was a huge, humbling learning experience.) I seriously looked right back at them and reasoned, "Well, YOU ALL know way more people than I do. I bet YOU can do something about it." 

Their first idea was to just scream it from the highest place we could. Seriously. Once they tried that a couple of times, they realized they'd need something more. There in the first scene of the completed movie though, you'll see their rendition of screaming it from the highest point we knew. (Our bridge in the garden was the highest place they could figure around our small school. I'll never look at that first scene without thinking about the power of children who stumble upon an idea and won't let it go...)

From there, it became history. I told them they really needed to let everyone know important facts and engagements we had shared about water... before asking them for money. So, they did. They tackled their plan with gusto, working for days to figure out the technology and the best ways of showcasing all our kindergarten knowledge on water. Some of the pieces they knew they wished to share:

• Creating water paintings Frank Asch-style 
• Testing water in vials with other substances 
• Studying globes to identify salty vs. freshwater 
• Understanding how many people struggle to access clean water to meet basic needs

The children helped to plan everything for the movie itself: 

Who would stand where? 

What artifacts would we share? 

How would we find all the buckets for the "children across the world" scene in the garden?

And they worked for days alongside our teaching assistant and early childhood intern to showcase what they knew about water... before telling the world about their plan. You see, they just happened to discover a school in Nicaragua with no water. And, although we couldn't fix the whole world, maybe we could help just one place. 

They dreamed up a plan for collecting money and promised they would learn to count it all up.

They'd give people options so parents didn't feel like they just had to send it in with no work on the kids' behalf. (You know, besides digging through sofa cushions and under car seats, too.)

And they decided for sure on a plan to honor those people who chose to give - a present! After all, there's nothing like homemade cards.

Clearly, we learned as artists and scientists, readers and writers, definitely social scientists and mathematicians. As movie-makers, we hesitantly watched and worked - and then released our masterpiece into the world.

Gratefully, we cheered as the money rolled in - counting from just pennies the first day to our final amount of hundreds of dollars. How excited we were to send the money to that small village to fund their new water pipes and bring fresh water to the school. And how different our learning became - when we realized that a bunch of five- and six-year-olds could indeed change the world!

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.

What a Kindergarten Looks Like

My question: “What draws you to choose a book? Do you flip through it? Look at the cover? Read the book jacket?”

Sweet Sally declares, “Bekus it is the tim.”

Her mom asked her what that meant. “Because it is the time,” she shared. “I chose to read ‘The Block Party’ because yesterday I went to a birthday party.” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

Intriguing thoughts coming from a five-year-old, aren’t they? Rather than giving a traditional response we might expect, Sally embraced the question with her open-minded approach to life. Her simple answer took me off guard.

Yet, it made such sense! Sally’s reflection propels my similar, simple thinking about what my K/1 classroom should look like. Of course, our room should look like our “times” and our calendars as well as our curriculum, interests and passions. Beyond picture book covers, our writing samples and work spaces should be overflowing with our current content.

*If we’re studying plants, we should collect and sort specimens, living and learning as botanists.

*If we’re studying three-dimensional shapes, we should manipulate geometric shapes and build structures, living and learning as architects.  

*And, if we’re studying photography, we should question and observe, live and learn as photographers do.Through taking on these different perspectives, children’s awareness grows. They truly feel a need to know information related to their discipline. Learning about botany, architecture or photography becomes an authentic and valued part of our lives – and the lives of our families.

A Closer Look at One Unit of Study - Photography -

& How It Impacts Our Classroom Appearance

*Even as we teach reading, we learn to read about “how to take pictures” through nonfiction books on photography. As we flip pages in picture books or books using photography for illustrations, we notice the compelling moves illustrators make.

*While we practice writing concepts, we describe the lives of notable photographers or their typical subjects to photograph. We see ourselves as illustrators - trying out different ideas we’ve culled from inspiring books. Both collaborative books designed by the whole class and individually-crafted books reflect our growing knowledge and interest.

*Math skills of counting money, scheduling appointments and organizing data are evident in engaging ways at our photography studio and later, in our photo booth. Cash registers, appointment books, calendars and organizers flow from the dramatic play area. (One perfect, authentic observation is on School Picture Day where children observe the photographer in action, the set-up, equipment, even the footprints taped to the floor! Taking photographs of the photographer at work propels substantive talk later.)

*In the science museum, cameras, film reels, negatives and a light table draw children over alongside sketch pads and magnifying glasses. Science & social studies abound in nonfiction books, child-made posters, class journals and children’s writings. Such topics include:

        +The history of cameras

        +Lives of famous photographers (Ansel Adams, Snowflake Bentley)

        +How cameras work

        +How-to narratives on ‘using different features on cameras”

*Perhaps the most significant touchstone of this study is the children’s real work as photographers themselves. Daily in the morning meeting, we showcase and talk about a photograph from a professional photographer. As children build on their understandings, we apprentice ourselves to our teacher assistant/photography expert, observing her and then being guided as we take our own photos at school. Of course, before we know it, children are taking photos at home and sending them via email to show on our large white board. We begin focusing on our individual work as photographers and how each of us is growing and changing. At each child’s turn as “photographer of the day,” they showcase their work, commenting on the moves they made as they created their snapshots. Sally and her friends are continually inspiring other classmates to broaden their own work.

You can imagine how the room begins changing as the content deepens. When teachers teach reading, writing, math and more by immersing their learners in rich study (of plants, architecture, photography or whatever), authentic questions arise. These questions result in more artifacts brought from homes, more noticings in the real world, and more awareness of the subject through technology and more authentic learning. Of course, these burgeoning resources fill our classroom devoted to such in-depth studies. So, just as Sally enlightened us all because it was the time, we are surely changed as readers, writers, thinkers, creators, historians, scientists and photographers.

As one unit of study concludes, the room begins changing again… Can you guess what our next inquiry will be?

Please share an example of a study that has changed your world.