This summer I am working in a preschool a few hours a day. I don't have my own class, I am simply going from room to room, helping out where needed and creating systems to make the teachers' jobs easier. Wow! What fun this has been.
I go into an older 2's room.(Isn't that funny that we call the room older 2's and young 3's? Its not like you hear adults saying things like "well, being an older 45 year old I dont think I should have to do the same taxes as, say, the younger 51's.)
Anyway, their teacher was prepping these guys for going to the pool. She said to them, "we are going to not run, not jump around, and we won't use our hands for hitting." I am watching these kids nodding yes in agreement over and over again as they are listening, and can almost hear them mulling over in the minds, "Run, yes, that sounds like a great idea.. After that I will...hmmm. I know, hit! Thanks for the tip, teach!" I watched them stare at their teacher, repeating the last word of her every sentence. Run.. Hit.. Jump. This converstaion went on and on. Even I was a bit bored. So, being the kind to HAVE to say something, I tell the children, "Maybe we can practice walking safely around the pool. Do you think we can walk safely? What would that mean?" They get up and start showing me what that could look like.
(Big Sigh) I think sometimes the teachers don't always like it when I help....
Like the time I was helping another class that was getting ready for the pool. (Middle aged 3's I think). These cuties were having to wait for the teacher to help them get ready. This was waaaaay boring and I could see some serious behavior issues around the corner. So, being the helpful girl scout that I am, I offered to share in the role of dressing the children. I told this little girl "hands up, get ready, say "pull!"" Upon saying "pull" (which usually got a giggle) I would pull their shirt over their heads. OK, now I have a line of takers. Everyone wants to play "arms up pull" with me. The teacher, not so much. But I think that maybe, just maybe, she learned from my role modeling that even the most mundane routines can be done in an engaging way for these friends. And if she didn't learn...oh well...I had fun!
See you later!
Friday, June 27, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Father's Day Memories
It's not as if I have a million memories of Father's Day itself...more like I have a bunch of memories of my dad. He's still alive, but we don't see each other so much anymore. Yet, today, while thinking about him, I was remembering some of the things he did that helped mold the me I am today.
1. He would encourage me to sing in the car. Not just sing, but "belt it out." He told me there was no difference between me and Barbra Streisand....I believed him. Do I really sing like Barbra? In my dreams...
2. When I was 7 we would toss the baseball around on the back yard. He told me I had the arm of a 9 year old boy. I believed him. In college I tried out for the softball team, certain that my 9 year old arm would get me on the team. P.S. No.
3. When I was 6 we picked up some hitchikers. I was never so scared and dad was not even nervous. He asked them where they were headed, and then told them a better route to get there. He asked them questions about their journey, and by the time they got out of the car, you would think we were all old friends. That spoke volumes to me.
4. For his 50th birthday, I made him a huge card filled with 50 Things to do on Your 50th Birthday! This thing was a labor of love. After he read it a first, then a second time in front of me, he said, "this is such a great card, and I am going to hold onto it for two years." Sorry, dad! I didnt realize you were only 48!
5. When I finally lost a tooth, in order to celebrate, dad took me to Kentucky Fried Chicken. When we were in the car, I told him I thought I could "sniff all the smell out of the bucket" before we got home. Not only did he let me, he encouraged me. I was so sick of that smell by the time we got home I never ate a piece of my own celebration chicken! But I never forgot that he encouraged me to do anything I wanted.
6. I could go on - the Sunday morning bagels and classical music, which has fostered my love of NPR. The 6am dunkin donuts date we had every Friday during my senior year in high school, which fostered my love of sweet fatty carbs. The fact that he had no problem letting us be a house of 4 kids - loud and crazy and hectic and never (in this memory) ever told me to stop being myself. That is what I think brought me to today. You know who was the first to write a comment in my blog? You do now...I love you dad, Happy Father's Day.
1. He would encourage me to sing in the car. Not just sing, but "belt it out." He told me there was no difference between me and Barbra Streisand....I believed him. Do I really sing like Barbra? In my dreams...
2. When I was 7 we would toss the baseball around on the back yard. He told me I had the arm of a 9 year old boy. I believed him. In college I tried out for the softball team, certain that my 9 year old arm would get me on the team. P.S. No.
3. When I was 6 we picked up some hitchikers. I was never so scared and dad was not even nervous. He asked them where they were headed, and then told them a better route to get there. He asked them questions about their journey, and by the time they got out of the car, you would think we were all old friends. That spoke volumes to me.
4. For his 50th birthday, I made him a huge card filled with 50 Things to do on Your 50th Birthday! This thing was a labor of love. After he read it a first, then a second time in front of me, he said, "this is such a great card, and I am going to hold onto it for two years." Sorry, dad! I didnt realize you were only 48!
5. When I finally lost a tooth, in order to celebrate, dad took me to Kentucky Fried Chicken. When we were in the car, I told him I thought I could "sniff all the smell out of the bucket" before we got home. Not only did he let me, he encouraged me. I was so sick of that smell by the time we got home I never ate a piece of my own celebration chicken! But I never forgot that he encouraged me to do anything I wanted.
6. I could go on - the Sunday morning bagels and classical music, which has fostered my love of NPR. The 6am dunkin donuts date we had every Friday during my senior year in high school, which fostered my love of sweet fatty carbs. The fact that he had no problem letting us be a house of 4 kids - loud and crazy and hectic and never (in this memory) ever told me to stop being myself. That is what I think brought me to today. You know who was the first to write a comment in my blog? You do now...I love you dad, Happy Father's Day.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Lessons from a swimming pool
The last few days have been great. The Jewish holiday of Shavuot (marking when we received the 10 commandments) was celebrated on Monday and Tuesday, so I had a few days off from work. For me, these days off can only mean one thing - swimming!
We have a wonderful pool area in our community and there are no less then 3000 small children in there at any given moment. Kids in the pool and parents on their chaises....it was an ECE observer's petrie dish!
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not some 24/7 kid voyeure. I don't seek opportunities in my free time to stare at kids. I TRIED to just lay there and get a tan. I TRIED to read my summer novel. I TRIED to swim laps and ignore the little guys. I even talked to a few grown ups in order to keep occupied. But it didn't work. My little eye and my third ear kept listening for and watching for something interesting, something that could give me new insight on children.
What do you think was at the pool? There were children splashing and kicking and playing. There were children screaming and laughing, one was running incessantly (completely disregaring the lifeguard) and others were simply standing in the water, goggles on their heads, staring.
What I saw was a little girl who was excited to see that she could kick her feet and make the water splash. She had no interest in stopping this new activity, even if it meant that she kicked other kids, or splashed another adult. She kicked me on accident. I look up at her, and she stared at me, not knowing what to do. I said, "was that an accident?" she said "uh huh", I said, "well then that's OK keep kicking!" So she did. But I noticed that she kept looking at me while she did it. And she wouldn't stop. It was getting a bit eery. Stop staring at me! What? Do I have something on my face? I got out of the water, just a little freaked out. She followed me with her eyes. What was it that had her attention? If she keeps staring at me I can't observe her anymore. Stop it, kid. That's it, I am going to watch someone else.
The boy who was standing in the water (the shallow end), with his goggles on his eyes, face down in the water. {Actually this reminded my of my friend Ronya's little girl who had her "gobbles" over her eyes, and could not see at all, so she kept crossing her eyes trying to look at us, or would rock her head back and forth like Ray Charles, trying to focus on something. She had us laughing so hard and had no idea why!} Anyway, this guy was staring, face down, into the water. WHAT was he looking at? I had to know. So I swam near him and looked down at the bottom of the pool. Nothing. I went under and opened my eyes. Nothing. The chlorine was really high and my eyes started to burn, but I couldn't stop. I needed to see what he saw. I tried it one more time, and had to stop because my eyes were burning. I looked up. This little guy was looking at me like I had 3 heads. What? I am looking at the pool just like you. Stop looking at me. I was just playing. You don't need to stare at me...
This happened often. Kids in the pool, without their parents, were very active, then when I started to observe them, they would stare me down until I stopped. Fascinating. They don't do that in a preschool. But in school they know their teacher is just a few feet away. At school I am introduced as a friend. But here I am a stalker. Is this an innate defense mechanism? Like a skunk with his smell, these kids offend their predator by staring at them silently until they leave. If they were those dinosaur birds they would have probably spit on me.
So what did I learn? I learned that I really need to be more creative when I observe children. I also learned that there is something on the bottom of the pool...
We have a wonderful pool area in our community and there are no less then 3000 small children in there at any given moment. Kids in the pool and parents on their chaises....it was an ECE observer's petrie dish!
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not some 24/7 kid voyeure. I don't seek opportunities in my free time to stare at kids. I TRIED to just lay there and get a tan. I TRIED to read my summer novel. I TRIED to swim laps and ignore the little guys. I even talked to a few grown ups in order to keep occupied. But it didn't work. My little eye and my third ear kept listening for and watching for something interesting, something that could give me new insight on children.
What do you think was at the pool? There were children splashing and kicking and playing. There were children screaming and laughing, one was running incessantly (completely disregaring the lifeguard) and others were simply standing in the water, goggles on their heads, staring.
What I saw was a little girl who was excited to see that she could kick her feet and make the water splash. She had no interest in stopping this new activity, even if it meant that she kicked other kids, or splashed another adult. She kicked me on accident. I look up at her, and she stared at me, not knowing what to do. I said, "was that an accident?" she said "uh huh", I said, "well then that's OK keep kicking!" So she did. But I noticed that she kept looking at me while she did it. And she wouldn't stop. It was getting a bit eery. Stop staring at me! What? Do I have something on my face? I got out of the water, just a little freaked out. She followed me with her eyes. What was it that had her attention? If she keeps staring at me I can't observe her anymore. Stop it, kid. That's it, I am going to watch someone else.
The boy who was standing in the water (the shallow end), with his goggles on his eyes, face down in the water. {Actually this reminded my of my friend Ronya's little girl who had her "gobbles" over her eyes, and could not see at all, so she kept crossing her eyes trying to look at us, or would rock her head back and forth like Ray Charles, trying to focus on something. She had us laughing so hard and had no idea why!} Anyway, this guy was staring, face down, into the water. WHAT was he looking at? I had to know. So I swam near him and looked down at the bottom of the pool. Nothing. I went under and opened my eyes. Nothing. The chlorine was really high and my eyes started to burn, but I couldn't stop. I needed to see what he saw. I tried it one more time, and had to stop because my eyes were burning. I looked up. This little guy was looking at me like I had 3 heads. What? I am looking at the pool just like you. Stop looking at me. I was just playing. You don't need to stare at me...
This happened often. Kids in the pool, without their parents, were very active, then when I started to observe them, they would stare me down until I stopped. Fascinating. They don't do that in a preschool. But in school they know their teacher is just a few feet away. At school I am introduced as a friend. But here I am a stalker. Is this an innate defense mechanism? Like a skunk with his smell, these kids offend their predator by staring at them silently until they leave. If they were those dinosaur birds they would have probably spit on me.
So what did I learn? I learned that I really need to be more creative when I observe children. I also learned that there is something on the bottom of the pool...
Friday, June 06, 2008
Read about this teacher!
A friend just forwarded this column to me. You will love reading about this guy. I wonder if he wants to move to Baltimore??
http://teachers.net/wong/MAY08/
Enjoy!
http://teachers.net/wong/MAY08/
Enjoy!
Thursday, June 05, 2008
New Book Club Forming!
On the suggestion of a wonderful friend, I am starting a book club for ECE professionals. IF you would like to be a part of the club, simply go to www.facebook.com, join (it's free) and join the club "ECE Teachers book club". We'll take a few days to get the names in place, and then start by deciding on a book and move on from there. Hope to see you there!
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Amanda, Max and Ben
My husband Jon is a magician. "Captain Jack the Magic Pirate" performs magic and creates wonderful balloon animals. In my free time, I will join him at an event and do face painting (actually, face stamping - it's faster for little kids). Today was one of those days, and the 3 new friends I made reminded my of why I am in this industry.
Amanda - 3 years old, sporting a pink dress with butterflies on it, pink clogs and a pink headband, wanted a pink butterfly on her face. Once I stamped her face, I showed her that my paint palette had red, yellow, blue and white, but not pink. What should we do? She looked at me very seriously and said, "mix red and that (white), and say a prayer and you get pink!"
Max - 2, all boy,(I could easily imagine that he'd have frogs and rocks and chewed up gum in his pockets) had no time for a stamp on his face, he just wanted to run around. Mom wanted him to have some type of stamp. (Note to parents: If your child has no interest in waiting in line for face stamping or balloon making, let them go play with a friend while YOU stay in line. That will make the overall experience happier for everyone!) Anyway, I digress. I quickly showed Max how my stamp can "kiss" his hand and make a picture. "A bas-a-ball, I have a bas-a-ball on my hand. Do again." I put a stamp on his other hand. Max couldn't believe he had TWO baseballs! He interuppted Captain Jack. "Hi, I have a bas-a-ball" he kept repeating. When Captain Jack saw his excitement, he made Max a huge balloon baseball cap. Max ran up to everyone at the event, showing off his cap and hands. Yet, little Max did not yet understand his physical space limitations, and kept banging into people with this balloon on his head, but it never seemed to bother him. He was a bas-a-ball player, and that was all that mattered.
Benjamin - 4 (maybe 3 - he was small but very verbal.) He'd already had a balloon (pink puppy dog with black nose and big ears), and had two stamps on his hands, (a frog and an alien spaceship) but wanted more. I watched him wait patiently for the balloon and the stamps, (he even let Amanda go ahead of him!) and when there was a lull in my line, he came up and asked me for "one more painting." He decided on a crown, so I asked him if he wanted a king crown or a prince crown. (Note: Was that a gender biased question? Should I have offered Ben the option for a queen crown or a princess crown as well?) Hmmm....
Anyway, Benjamin wanted a "pretty King crown" on his cheek, and when I started to dab on the green gemstones, he asked my what I was putting on his face. "Emeralds" I told him. "Emmeralls" he replied. No need to correct him. It was just too cute for words. I asked if I could hug him because he was so yummy. He said, "Yes, but wait cause the emeralls are wet."
3 new friends, three completely different imaginations. Three different ways of communicating and understanding. How is it that teachers try to use the same curriculum for each child when they are so very different? Just one more reason I love emergent learning!!
Amanda - 3 years old, sporting a pink dress with butterflies on it, pink clogs and a pink headband, wanted a pink butterfly on her face. Once I stamped her face, I showed her that my paint palette had red, yellow, blue and white, but not pink. What should we do? She looked at me very seriously and said, "mix red and that (white), and say a prayer and you get pink!"
Max - 2, all boy,(I could easily imagine that he'd have frogs and rocks and chewed up gum in his pockets) had no time for a stamp on his face, he just wanted to run around. Mom wanted him to have some type of stamp. (Note to parents: If your child has no interest in waiting in line for face stamping or balloon making, let them go play with a friend while YOU stay in line. That will make the overall experience happier for everyone!) Anyway, I digress. I quickly showed Max how my stamp can "kiss" his hand and make a picture. "A bas-a-ball, I have a bas-a-ball on my hand. Do again." I put a stamp on his other hand. Max couldn't believe he had TWO baseballs! He interuppted Captain Jack. "Hi, I have a bas-a-ball" he kept repeating. When Captain Jack saw his excitement, he made Max a huge balloon baseball cap. Max ran up to everyone at the event, showing off his cap and hands. Yet, little Max did not yet understand his physical space limitations, and kept banging into people with this balloon on his head, but it never seemed to bother him. He was a bas-a-ball player, and that was all that mattered.
Benjamin - 4 (maybe 3 - he was small but very verbal.) He'd already had a balloon (pink puppy dog with black nose and big ears), and had two stamps on his hands, (a frog and an alien spaceship) but wanted more. I watched him wait patiently for the balloon and the stamps, (he even let Amanda go ahead of him!) and when there was a lull in my line, he came up and asked me for "one more painting." He decided on a crown, so I asked him if he wanted a king crown or a prince crown. (Note: Was that a gender biased question? Should I have offered Ben the option for a queen crown or a princess crown as well?) Hmmm....
Anyway, Benjamin wanted a "pretty King crown" on his cheek, and when I started to dab on the green gemstones, he asked my what I was putting on his face. "Emeralds" I told him. "Emmeralls" he replied. No need to correct him. It was just too cute for words. I asked if I could hug him because he was so yummy. He said, "Yes, but wait cause the emeralls are wet."
3 new friends, three completely different imaginations. Three different ways of communicating and understanding. How is it that teachers try to use the same curriculum for each child when they are so very different? Just one more reason I love emergent learning!!
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