Listen to Your Inner Child--Or Just the One Standing in Front of You

I was trying to figure out what items to request on a DonorsChoose proposal.  DonorsChoose.org is a website where teachers and donors meet in order to facilitate educational materials getting into classrooms where they are needed.  Teachers ask; donors listen.

Recently, because of a generous donation by the Claire Giannini Foundation to all California projects,  I had numerous proposals funded.  The items coming to my classroom include a class set of The Adventures of Captain Underpants (so we can read fun chapter books), a MacBook (to make our own movies about superheroes), and a class set of flash drives (so we can transport our movies between computers).

With a few proposal slots open and about, oh, a zillion ideas in my head, I turned to Santino for his expert kid advice.  Bean bag chairs, class sets of Percy Jackson, netbooks, a new printer/scanner--I had lots of ideas, many of them coming from Santino in the first place.  So I posed the question to him--what should I ask for?

"Mom, you gotta get laptops.  Imagine every kid having a laptop at school!"

He didn't pause for a breath, he didn't think it over--it was obvious to him.  And it made me wonder--why aren't we asking kids what they need in school?

I asked Santino for more advice.  "Bean bag chair, couch, or both?"  Again, he knew immediately.  "Both," he said, "because kids are happier when they have options."  Kids are happier when they have options.  Simple but profound.

I'm not claiming that kids really understand the world of pedagogy or the academic side of education.   But I do think they are self-aware.  They know what gets them excited about school.  It could be a beanbag chair, a laptop, or smelly markers--whatever it takes, they know what it is.  And when kids get excited about school, they stay focussed longer, try harder, and have a better attitude.  

So listen to that kid standing right in front of you.  You might get something out of it.

Trust Chaos

"Can we read?" asked Mike.  He looked hopeful.

I bit my lip.  It's the second day of school and I still don't have my library set up--so the kids don't have books yet.  A half dozen boxes of books sit in front of my library shelves.  Why?  I can't decide how to organize them.  Do I organize them by genre?  By reading level?  By shape?

When Mike asked if they could read today, I had to reconsider my plans to organize.  What was I waiting for?  In my desire to have the perfect start to the school year, I failed to open the most important part--our library.

"Hey, kids,"  I said, "do you want to sort the books?"

Cheers all around.  "Great--how do you want to sort them?" I asked.  "By reading level or by genre?"  I jumped on the opportunity to teach the word genre and gave them some of the categories.   Carla raised her hand.  "I think we should sort them by level.  If we do it by genre, it would take a long time for us to figure out what kind of books they are.  And we want to read now!"

It's hard to argue with that.  I handed armfuls of books to all the kids, and they brought them to the tables for the sorting.  Have you ever been to smorgasbord?  That's how our classroom looked.  Kids were feasting on a variety of books--scary stories, fantasies, biographies, mysteries.  There was something for everybody.

Eventually every student had picked a book to read, and they even sorted most of the books into bins.  All my kids walked home today with a book in hand, and that's the way it should be the first week of school.

I overcame my compulsive desire for order.  It's time to trust chaos.  And sometimes when you trust chaos, you end up with a book in your pocket and a story in your heart.

New Beginnings

Today is the first day of school.

There’s something magical about those words.  The first day of school.  Gosh, that’s five syllables.  I feel a haiku coming on:

The first day of school

New shoes, new clothes, and new friends

The end of summer

Last night, little Bella was so excited about her first day of second grade as she went to bed--she couldn’t contain herself.  She ran around the living room in her fluffy pink robe, rechecking her pencil box, showing off her Hello Kitty backpack, and chanting, “the first day of school, the first day of school.”  I couldn’t help but get caught up in her frenzy.

This morning, children are wondering—who is going to be my teacher? Is my best friend going to be in my class?  Will I meet any new kids?  What are we learning this year?

Believe me, teachers are doing the same thing.  Who will show up and who won’t return to school?  Will my kids work as a group? Will they learn—and retain—everything I taught them?

Oh, I’m going to miss waking up without an alarm clock.  Stacks of paper are going to start to dominate my living room.  And don’t forget that eternal state of exhaustion that hovers over your total state of being. But every September gives us a new beginning.

Every year you get a fresh start.  New teacher, new kids.  Last year you could have been the problem child—this year, who knows?  You get another chance to change your karma.  Same thing goes for teachers, as you have spent the summer thinking about the past year and make plans for retooling.

Yeah, it’s the end of summer, but it’s the beginning of possibilities.