A Slow Learning Movement: Growing a Garden of Readers and Writers

(for the non-Kindergarten teacher, it says "Ms. Marshall: Rainbow)

(Happy Birthday)

This learner of mine came into Kindergarten shy, nervous, and afraid to make any mistakes. So afraid she was almost paralyzed, so scared she wasn't good enough. But, giving her (and her classmates) time, encouragement, and some small group instruction to boost her own confidence, she began writing on her own. 

Remember the "Slow Food" movement a few years ago? This idea that too much in our life is about instant gratification, and in order to truly appreciate our food, we need to step back, slow down, and really appreciate the process of preparing our meals? It was a garden to table movement- and really broke down the food chain for the pedestrian foodie. It is with that thought in mind that I propose this: I think we need a "Slow Learning" movement. One where our children are allowed to learn at their own pace. One that acknowledges that development is a continuum? That acknowledges that we will all get there. It isn't fast food, but a garden of growing. It's full of life, and life happens in different planes for different people.

As a Kindergarten teacher, I have students coming into school in September on so many levels. Some don't recognize their name in print while others are reading. Sometimes, especially as a parent, we might think, "I need to get these kids caught up!" Or, for the ones who are already reading and writing, "How can I get these kids to do more and be more?" But what if... what if there really wasn't such a thing as "catching up" of "doing more and being more"? What if everyone was where they needed to be, and we could take them from where they are and allow them to bloom and blossom at their own rate?

One thing we in education are really good at saying is that we want to give children a time to grow and develop at their own pace, but one thing (I believe) we aren't always great at doing is giving children time to develop and grow at their own pace. When the talk is all about developmentally appropriate practice, but the standards (or expectations, or interpretations of the standards) are set in such a way that we feel we must push kids, guess which sentiment seems to win?

But what if... what if we start to push this idea of slow learning? What if we embrace the idea that we can give children time? What if we truly trusted the process of learning and development? What if we embraced the idea that children really don't need to be reading or writing at a certain level by the end of Kindergarten? 

I do believe, in my very heart of hearts, that if we give our Kindergarten learners a literacy rich environment, if we give them multi-sensory experiences in their daily lives, if we expose them to the ideas of learning, of reading and writing, if we encourage them to try and experiment without expectations of mastery, then they truly would have that chance to blossom at their own pace. I am not saying give no instruction, nor am I saying that children don't need direct instruction. What I am saying is, what if we step back from the urgency of achievement, to the more relaxed cultivation of young learners? What if we took off the mantle of success and replaced it with something that actually does give them room to grow?

Science tells us the average age of children learning to read is 7. If that is true (and it is), then why are we putting that yoke of achievement on children who are 5? We know that pushing early doesn't mean that they will get it early, but rather the opposite. And we might actually be harming them in the process. 

I am proposing this. Let's get that Slow Learning Movement started. Let's allow all of the flowers in our Kindergarten to grow and bloom when it is their time! Let's step back from the hustle and bustle of reading records and assessments and let's truly look at the growth we see in our learners. Let's ease up on the expectations and let them breath on their own. Let's trust the process we say we believe in.

This article by Bored Teachers is a nice synopsis of some of this information and it references studies: Learning to Read Too Early Might Be Counterproductive.

A Playlist for Kindness

Kindness doesn't care how old you are, what your skin color is, who you voted for, or anything else. Kindness just matters. 

I saw on Facebook, that this week, February 14-20,  is "Random Acts of Kindness Week".  I've been thinking about kindness lately. I know I am feeling much more sensitive these days, and I am trying to lean into that. Everywhere I look I have seen moments of extreme kindness, and moments of true meanness. Humanity is such a complex concept. We have the ability to be brought to tears of empathy by someone in need, and yet still spit on another's shortcomings. Sometimes it depends on the time of day which response we will choose.

On Friday I made a pretty innocuous reply to a tweet by Dr. Biden on Twitter. She (or her pr people, I don't really care) posted pictures of huge heart cut-outs on the White House lawn. It was such a teacher-y thing to do, and it really made my day. I said I was happy there was an educator in the White House and thanked her for what she does. Pretty bland, but the responses I got! Not so bland, lol! It's a lot easier to be mean these days, have you noticed? According to those Tweets, I am, "what's wrong with education today", "brainwashing children to hate themselves", "blind to propaganda" "narcissistic indoctrinator", and the list goes on. Whatever- I choose to not reply, and I choose to not let nameless (because most of them don't even use their real names), faceless dots on a screen hurt me.

Every year in my kindergarten class, we spend a lot of time talking about kindness. We sing about it, we read about it, I try to infuse it into so many of the lessons we have during the day. Kindness is more than just being nice, it's thinking about another person in such a way, and treating them in such a way that you would want to be treated. Kindness is finding ways to make someone happy, to make their load easier, to help one another. The more we infuse kindness into our day, the more I see it being played out in their lives. 

One year I had a student who was very petite. While she was at recess one day, an older student started to make fun of her size, which caused her to start crying. When her classmates found this out, they were outraged. Now, let me give you a bit of a background on this class- they literally (I do mean to use that word literally) fist fought over every single thing. It was a most exhausting year. But, as much as this class fought each other, they could not stand by and let one of their own be made fun of. From that day on, my friend never was left alone on the playground again. There was always someone close by. They clearly picked up on some forms of kindness...

This year, one of my students struggles to get her boots off. Her friends take turns volunteering to help her. 

Last year my students would teach their classmates how to do intricate art activities.

One year I had a student with loads of emotional and behavioural issues. After he tore the classroom apart for the umpteenth time, I wanted to talk about it with the other students. They proceeded to tell me all of the wonderful things this one student would do.

Children understand kindness, and they practice it. They aren't perfect, and they still have those "me first" moments, but when you take time to build a classroom community, things like this happen.

What does it mean to be a human? What does it mean to do kind things? You don't always have to like the other person, you don't even have to know them. But you can always be kind to them. If you can be anything, be kind. Always.

Kindness playlist:

Try a Little Kindness

Love Train (Playing for Change)

Everyday People (Playing for Change)

Keb Mo: Life Is Beautiful

Sam Cooke: This Little Light

My Own Two Hands

Everyday Hero

Dinosaurs! Self-Regulation Part 3

This post is the third in a series around self-regulation. I started off by talking about the importance of long, uninterrupted play time in kindergarten that gets our minds and our bodies ready to sit and listen (for a developmentally appropriate amount of time, btw). Then I wrote on how the environment we create as adults (calm, serene, low-stress) adds to the way our students can self-regulate. Now I want to speak on a specific type of play- dramatic play. In this post I will be focusing on dinosaurs, because that's where we are in my class. 

My observation is around dinosaurs and the type of play that is involved when we pretend we are large, carnivorous creatures. I hesitate to say "violent" because I don't think that's the attitude I want to cultivate in reading this. Perhaps aggressive is a better word; aggressive in a controlled way. I have a particular student (although he is not alone) whose first instinct when upset is to lash out and hit. All through September-December we worked on this, looking for ways we could react that didn't involve hurting others, and it was getting better. But, then we had two weeks off, and some behaviours returned. 

Before our winter break I noticed that some of us were interested in dinosaurs, so over the holidays I went out and bought some toy dinosaurs and set them out, along with some books I have. I didn't want to dictate what we would do with them, I didn't want a "unit" or a "study", I just wanted to give them another dimension of dramatic play. What I noticed was this: the more we interacted with each other as dinosaurs, both carnivores and herbivores, the less our aggression came through in other aspects of the day. Giving my students a place to put that type of aggression helps them self-regulate their own feelings of powerlessness (because I believe that's why we start off by hitting in the first place- we feel powerless in a situation and the only thing we can do is lash out). It allows them to feel that power, it allows them to "fight it out" in a safe environment. The more they have been able to use these dinosaurs, the less aggressive their play has become as a whole, and the more complex their play has become- from sorting and stacking, to building structures for the dinosaurs to climb on. And the aggressive behaviour outside of this play also continues to decline. 

Does this demonstrate the power of play in our lives? It most certainly does! Play isn't just a break, it isn't something an adult can manipulate in order to get an outcome they want. Play is what a human mammal needs to make sense of the world around them. Play is what we need to develop certain neural pathways in our brains. It is through play that we put into reality what our brain knows. As the teacher I have certain responsibilities to my students and their parents, but I can't make them learn. I believe it is my job to set up the environment in such a way that through their play they are able to master the skills they will need in life. Every day my students amaze me with what they can do. It is never easy to quantify this, to use it for comments on a report card- but it is always exactly what they need in order to be where they are and move forward. 

This is the stuff that makes teaching kindergarten so important. This is the stuff that matters. 

This is the Stuff

Friday was one of those perfect days. It snowed the night before- just enough- the sun was shining, and the temperature mild. There was no wind so to speak of. I went into school, and at the last minute decided- "That's it! We're going sledding." Our school custodian rounded up the crazy carpets for me, and we had the best morning outside together. I remember thinking, "This is the stuff life is made of." (Cue Carolyn Arends: This Is the Stuff ). "Life's made up of little things... I need to notice...." It was around 10 my time, 8 Central time. 10:00 in PEI, 8:00 in Illinois.

Later that morning, as I was in the middle of a lesson, my phone started buzzing. And it continued to buzz. If it was a telemarketer, or a local caller, they would have phoned once and/or left a message, but this was multiple phone calls one after the other. I knew exactly what that meant. Dad had passed away. 

It's been a long journey for him, one that has intensified in the last two months, but long. I'm glad it's over for him, but it's going to be so hard to move on without him, as, I am sure, anyone feels at the death of a loved one. 

My Dad was one of the kindest, best men I've ever known. He taught me that once you give your word to do something, you do it. That it's more important to be kind, to think of others, to put yourself in their position. He would take a friend who had Alzheimers golfing, even though that friend wouldn't remember it. When asked why, he simply said, "I hope someone would do that for me." And I do hope someone did something like that for Dad, because if anyone deserved it, it was him (I am biased though, I know). 

He also taught me that, if I got stopped for speeding, to make sure I told him before he heard it at work. Dad was a cop, and a good one. One of the first messages of condolence I received was from a high school friend whose husband started on the force on my Dad's shift. She told me how respected he was by the Department. That means the world to me. 

Everything Dad did was for our family and for my Mom. He was a quiet worker, letting that speak for him. He loved to golf and play handball. He loved me and my brother, he loved my children. One of the last things Dad told me before he went into the hospital- how grateful he was to have Knox living with them. He loved Nathan, Grace, and Knox, and was always so proud of their success. He loved my husband, Tom, and welcomed him into the family as one of our own.

Bruce Springsteen has a song on his newest album, Letter to You. The whole project is one that I have on repeat- because the grief he works through on Letter to You is similar to my own. It's a grief that time gives us, the looking back at the past, and living into the future. The song is, "I'll See You In My Dreams"

The road is long and seeming without end
The days go on, I remember you my friend
And though you're gone 
And my heart's been emptied it seems
I'll see you in my dreams

Oh Dad... In my dreams:

- we are at Daytona Beach and you are asking 5 year old me to go out by the waves so you can take a picture. But in reality, you're taking a picture of all of the bikini clad college girls on their spring break

-you are just coming home from work and I am making you a martini (it was the 70s, it was a different time...) or you have a Capri pizza... or you have donuts. It all depends on what shift you're working.

-you are the funniest guy in the room (at least I think so)

-you are locking your gun away, because you're off duty now and we never see it out unless it needs to be.

-you are calling a local patrol officer because I've been playing with your handcuffs and got them stuck on my leg. You can't find your key so you have to have someone come and unlock me.

-we are on our way to Florida in our family station wagon. It's a hot summer day and we have "4X4 window air conditioning", and your arm is propped up on the window.

I have so many memories to pull from, but for some reason, these are the ones that stand out to me.

Thank you for being the best example of what it means to be a Man. For loving your family. Your legacy will live on. Every day I do what I do because of you. I will remember you with tears, yes, but ultimately with a smile.

You passed away as my students were having the best of times in an unplanned sledding party. The beauty of that moment will stay with me forever. 

Bruce Springsteen: I'll See You In My Dreams