"Survey says!!!..." Our staff recently played Family Feud at our faculty Christmas party and I laughed so hard I cried. The tears came for two reasons: 1. Jeremy Phillips playing the host was priceless (he claims he hates speaking in front of people but I would highly disagree after watching his performance that day 2. Watching Annette Harbaugh hurdle over a chair to avoid being the HOUSE member who sat in the "hot seat". The Family Feud theme continued a few days later when Mother and I watched the popular game show after a day of Christmas shopping. It reaffirmed to me what a great "host" Jeremy was with his "Tell me a little about yourself" questions and his "Good answer" statements. Growing up, that was one of two game shows I enjoyed watching every week. No, the other one was not The Newlywed Game or Jeopardy, but the Gong Show. I was glued to the T.V. every week and I remember often feeling sad for the contestants as one of the judges would regularly head to the big, metal, gong and strike it with a mallet to let the contestant know their act was not worthy of continuing. Memories of that show had faded from my mind until I was recently skimming Twitter. Yes, Twitter again. I noticed a principal tweeted a picture of himself and a student, but something else stood out to me in the photo. Right behind them was the cutest, little, desktop gong with a sign taped to it that read, "Good News Gong". The principal apparently had the kids strike it after they received a "Good News" phone call home. I loved that idea because last year I would call parents of kids who had gone above and beyond at school and the kids would then become "slide certified". Since we are still slide certifying this year, I had to think up something else to do with a gong. The wheels began to turn. I knew I had to have one. I just didn't know what I would use it for.
Well...the gong was purchased and I will admit it was a little smaller than I was expecting. I had dreams of it being the size of the one used in the original Gong Show, but what arrived was one about 20" tall. Oh well. It would have to work. What to do with it was the question. This year, I had begun recognizing kids for reading a specific number of words, but recognition meant getting into the treasure box. I realized I had been using a treasure box for 17 years so maybe it was time to change it up a little. The decision was made. I would leave the treasure box behind and move onto the GONG.
Every Monday during our 5 lunch periods, the music comes on (Celebrate Good Times by Kool and the Gang), and one by one the students hear their names bellowed from the microphone as they excitedly run to the GONG where they strike it triumphantly with a mallet. So far we have had 205 students who have struck it and several have hit it more than once. Kindergarten students through fourth grade seem to all enjoy it and one of the best parts for me is watching classmates cheer each other on as their names are called. I wasn't sure if it would catch on and I worried the new would wear off quickly, but so far it's been a huge hit. Kids have begun coming up to me throughout the day to tell me how many words they have read and how close they are to hitting the GONG for the next word count milestone.
For me the GONG symbolizes thinking outside the box. I could have kept the treasure box, but thought something new might bring a renewed enthusiasm, and if the conversations in the hallway with kids are any indicator I was right. If we held our awards assembly right now, 93 students would receive awards for reading 100,000, 250,000, 750,000 or 1,000,000 words and the second half of the year is only beginning. So ask yourself if you're thinking outside the box or are you doing the same thing you've always done. Why? Is there enthusiasm in your workplace? Shouldn't there be? Are you still using your own version of a "treasure box" or is a "GONG" on your mind? When I watch Family Feud from now on, I'll no longer think of Richard Dawson or Steve Harvey. Jeremy Phillips and Annette Harbaugh will now come to mind. And when I hear the words Gong Show the disappointment I felt for those contestants back in the 70s will now be replaced with the enthusiasm I see on our Carver kids' faces as THEY hit the GONG for reading. We like to think of it as The Gong Show...Carver style.
Sunday, December 30, 2018
Sunday, November 25, 2018
The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same
"Mr. Harville, how does green make you feel?" Those words were spoken in 1992 by a little fourth grade boy named Justin who happened to be in the classroom where I was student teaching. Mr. Harville, the principal of the school, had walked into the classroom to give my cooperating teacher a message and had been greeted by Justin, who excitedly ran up to him. The class had been working on writing color poems that particular day. I had given each of them glasses made from a template of a 3D pair I had kept from a movie theater. I stapled green cellophane onto the frames so when they looked through them, everything they saw would be green. Well, as green as the world could be through cellophane, but they were 9-year-olds, so it worked. I used the poetry book Hailstones and Halibut Bones to teach the lesson and after reading a couple of my favorite poems, I took them on a walk around the building with their glasses on so they could see, hear, smell, and touch all things green. After returning to the classroom, the students began writing their own GREEN poem. Justin had gotten to the part where he had to write how green made him feel. Enter Mr. Harville. Remember, I was student teaching so when Justin got out of his seat and ran up to the principal, I was mortified, but Mr. Harville played along and gave him an answer that escapes me 27 years later. The students produced amazing poems that day and it became a lesson I would use every year I taught (and apparently a year I was a principal as well).
Fast forward to 2018. I decided it was time to dust off more than the book Hailstones and Halibut Bones. Yes. I decided to dust off my teaching skills and get back into the classroom and teach that lesson again 2018 style. There were no homemade cellophane glasses to use and no trip around the building and instead of writing the final product in their neatest handwriting, they used their chrome books to type them, complete with colored text. It hit me during the lesson that while some things have changed, some have definitely stayed the same.
1. Students rise to our expectations. I walked into every classroom with high expectations, just as I did when I was teaching. The students were expected to think critically, stay on task and produce a poem to be proud of and they did not disappoint. During the mini-lesson, we talked about visualization, descriptive words, and elaborating on our thoughts. They listened to sample poems, talked to their partners about what they heard in the book and got to work on their own masterpiece. As we conferenced about their poems, they would revise and edit, all the while making them better and better. I loved seeing their faces when they read their final poem and realized how impressive they really were. Educators MUST have high expectations.
2. Boys loved it as much as the girls. We are told as educators that boys hate to write. I have never agreed with this statement. I know there is research that says that as well, but again, that was never my experience as a teacher and it wasn't my experience as I headed back into the classroom recently either. In fact, I found the boys to often be more excited than the girls in some of the classes. It was a boy who jumped up with curiosity and excitement all those years ago when writing his poem about GREEN. It was also a little boy a few weeks ago who shouted out "Cheetos", "Traffic Cones" and "Denver Broncos" when he was trying to think of everything that was orange. Don't tell me boys don't like to write. I can show you some poems that would prove you wrong. Don't assume boys don't get excited about writing.
3. Enthusiasm for the subject matter is a must. I was a young, scared, naive, enthusiastic student teacher when I taught that first lesson on poetry so many years ago. While I'm no longer young, scared or naive, I am still enthusiastic about education. I hope the kids felt it when I walked into their classrooms recently. I tried to throw out as many, "Excellent" "Love that" and High Fives as I could. If we are enthusiastic about our work, our kids will be enthusiastic about theirs.
So being back in the classroom to teach poetry got me so excited about teaching that I headed back into the classrooms the next week to have the students add their contributions to our school wide Hallway Stories. As I entered the little boy's classroom who wrote the ORANGE poem, he came rushing up to me, much like Justin ran up to Mr. Harville so many years ago. Hopefully his teacher wasn't as mortified as I was that day. I heard him excitedly say, "Mrs. Burr, Mrs. Burr, I finished my orange poem. Can I share it with you?" So much for that research about boys and writing.
Nothing compares to teaching. If you are an administrator and you aren't getting back into the classrooms to teach ask yourself why. Teach a lesson. Show the kids the passion and enthusiasm that you expect from them and their teachers. Connect with kids in a different way. My student teaching experience sparked a love for teaching reading and writing and I found out it's still there. I hope the little boy who recently wrote about Tigger, Garfield and fall leaves will always remember how excited he got when writing a poem in third grade, because I'll never forget it.
Fast forward to 2018. I decided it was time to dust off more than the book Hailstones and Halibut Bones. Yes. I decided to dust off my teaching skills and get back into the classroom and teach that lesson again 2018 style. There were no homemade cellophane glasses to use and no trip around the building and instead of writing the final product in their neatest handwriting, they used their chrome books to type them, complete with colored text. It hit me during the lesson that while some things have changed, some have definitely stayed the same.
1. Students rise to our expectations. I walked into every classroom with high expectations, just as I did when I was teaching. The students were expected to think critically, stay on task and produce a poem to be proud of and they did not disappoint. During the mini-lesson, we talked about visualization, descriptive words, and elaborating on our thoughts. They listened to sample poems, talked to their partners about what they heard in the book and got to work on their own masterpiece. As we conferenced about their poems, they would revise and edit, all the while making them better and better. I loved seeing their faces when they read their final poem and realized how impressive they really were. Educators MUST have high expectations.
2. Boys loved it as much as the girls. We are told as educators that boys hate to write. I have never agreed with this statement. I know there is research that says that as well, but again, that was never my experience as a teacher and it wasn't my experience as I headed back into the classroom recently either. In fact, I found the boys to often be more excited than the girls in some of the classes. It was a boy who jumped up with curiosity and excitement all those years ago when writing his poem about GREEN. It was also a little boy a few weeks ago who shouted out "Cheetos", "Traffic Cones" and "Denver Broncos" when he was trying to think of everything that was orange. Don't tell me boys don't like to write. I can show you some poems that would prove you wrong. Don't assume boys don't get excited about writing.
3. Enthusiasm for the subject matter is a must. I was a young, scared, naive, enthusiastic student teacher when I taught that first lesson on poetry so many years ago. While I'm no longer young, scared or naive, I am still enthusiastic about education. I hope the kids felt it when I walked into their classrooms recently. I tried to throw out as many, "Excellent" "Love that" and High Fives as I could. If we are enthusiastic about our work, our kids will be enthusiastic about theirs.
So being back in the classroom to teach poetry got me so excited about teaching that I headed back into the classrooms the next week to have the students add their contributions to our school wide Hallway Stories. As I entered the little boy's classroom who wrote the ORANGE poem, he came rushing up to me, much like Justin ran up to Mr. Harville so many years ago. Hopefully his teacher wasn't as mortified as I was that day. I heard him excitedly say, "Mrs. Burr, Mrs. Burr, I finished my orange poem. Can I share it with you?" So much for that research about boys and writing.
Nothing compares to teaching. If you are an administrator and you aren't getting back into the classrooms to teach ask yourself why. Teach a lesson. Show the kids the passion and enthusiasm that you expect from them and their teachers. Connect with kids in a different way. My student teaching experience sparked a love for teaching reading and writing and I found out it's still there. I hope the little boy who recently wrote about Tigger, Garfield and fall leaves will always remember how excited he got when writing a poem in third grade, because I'll never forget it.
Orange is the color of pumpkins.
The color of Halloween, fire, the Denver Broncos, and Tigger.
Orange tastes like pumpkin pie and gingerbread.
Orange looks like a shining light.
Orange feels like a fire inside.
Orange sounds like “Trick or Treat”.
Orange smells like ginger candles.
Orange is the color of a sunset.
The color of Garfield, fall leaves, and traffic cones.
By: Kaide
Thursday, February 22, 2018
What's Your Why?
I was recently reminded of the "why" I got into education. Well, actually I got into education, because back in 1988, nursing and teaching were the only fields anyone talked about for women and I knew I did NOT want to wear scrubs everyday. It might have also been because my sophomore English teacher, Nita Jackson, was always so classy looking. She had the most beautiful wardrobe. Whatever the reason that got me started, I have stayed in a field that has meant so much to me for so many years. So, maybe I should have started with, "I was recently reminded of the "why" I stay in education. Everyone's "why" changes as life experiences happen and after having Allison my "why" definitely evolved. As I visited with kids through the years, I always talked to them the way I would have wanted Allison talked to and when speaking to parents, I spoke to them the way I would have wanted to have been spoken to myself. I BELIEVED I did those things, but until recently I never had it confirmed. A couple weeks ago, I received the sweetest text message from a mother. A mother who I say hi to when I see her, but have never really known that well. She reminded me of something I did when her daughter, who's now a sophomore in high school, was a fourth grader at Carver. I had forgotten most of what she was texting about, but as I continued reading the text, it was apparent that her memory was crystal clear. Her message mentioned that when she and her husband had divorced, her daughter was "so sad" and "needed to be with her friends". She shared with me details of the phone call she and I had those many years ago. It was a heartfelt message, but the words that brought me to tears were, "You didn't do that for ME. You did that for a sad 4th grader watching her parents divorce and she needed friends/support at school". She was right. I made my decision based on what was best for that little 9-year-old girl and her mother had never forgotten it. Parents remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
As a parent of a high school senior, meaningful acts still matter to me in that capacity also. Allison's assistant basketball coach, Coach Hixson, has coached her since eighth grade, so he knows her well. There have been two occasions through the past 5 years that he has sent messages to me as a parent. The messages were words I needed to hear at those moments and the gesture and the words he spoke meant more than I could even convey to him. Parents remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
We, as educators, often get caught up in all the activities taking place on a daily basis and we take for granted how meaningful our actions are for those involved. Another story recently shared with me was from a mother of a second grader. Two years ago, he was in kindergarten and he cried every single day when she dropped him off at school. I had to talk to him and coerce him away from her and I never minded once. Why? Because I would have wanted someone to have been kind to my daughter if she had been the little 5-year-old struggling to come into school. His mother let me know how much she appreciated that act. On a side note, her 18-year-old son stopped by a couple months ago. He also went through Carver as a young boy. I assumed he was there to pick up his little brother so I asked him if he had stayed to tutor. He said, "No." I asked him what he was doing at Carver and he replied, "I just came by to say hi to you." Kids remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
I'm sure others would question me on why I don't rush the parent away who sits with her young child every morning, until the teacher makes her appearance, reassuring the little one that it's ok to come to class. I'm sure there are some who would never have allowed a mother, who was raised in another culture, to stay all morning, just to make sure her only child who was attending his first day of school, was ok. Not only did I allow her to wait on him, she and I had some nice conversations where I found out she had taught young children in her native country. She just needed to make sure her little boy was ok. Who was I to challenge how she had been raised and what her culture believed about education. She was hurting no one sitting in a chair in the office. Parents remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
As a parent of a high school senior, meaningful acts still matter to me in that capacity also. Allison's assistant basketball coach, Coach Hixson, has coached her since eighth grade, so he knows her well. There have been two occasions through the past 5 years that he has sent messages to me as a parent. The messages were words I needed to hear at those moments and the gesture and the words he spoke meant more than I could even convey to him. Parents remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
We, as educators, often get caught up in all the activities taking place on a daily basis and we take for granted how meaningful our actions are for those involved. Another story recently shared with me was from a mother of a second grader. Two years ago, he was in kindergarten and he cried every single day when she dropped him off at school. I had to talk to him and coerce him away from her and I never minded once. Why? Because I would have wanted someone to have been kind to my daughter if she had been the little 5-year-old struggling to come into school. His mother let me know how much she appreciated that act. On a side note, her 18-year-old son stopped by a couple months ago. He also went through Carver as a young boy. I assumed he was there to pick up his little brother so I asked him if he had stayed to tutor. He said, "No." I asked him what he was doing at Carver and he replied, "I just came by to say hi to you." Kids remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
I'm sure others would question me on why I don't rush the parent away who sits with her young child every morning, until the teacher makes her appearance, reassuring the little one that it's ok to come to class. I'm sure there are some who would never have allowed a mother, who was raised in another culture, to stay all morning, just to make sure her only child who was attending his first day of school, was ok. Not only did I allow her to wait on him, she and I had some nice conversations where I found out she had taught young children in her native country. She just needed to make sure her little boy was ok. Who was I to challenge how she had been raised and what her culture believed about education. She was hurting no one sitting in a chair in the office. Parents remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
Those who know me, know how much I have come to appreciate Twitter. I love how it has made a large, educational world seem so small. As I was checking it recently, I saw a post that said, Be kind to others. Share an act of kindness. Your act might be someone's memory of a lifetime. That goes nicely with what I am trying to say and it made me think about my own personal memories of a lifetime with the educator's I had. My own fourth grade teacher and I are friends on facebook. I've mentioned her before. She's the one who brought back a piece of tar from Southfork Ranch in Texas. The show Dallas should ring a bell. I still have it and I still have such sweet memories of fourth grade. The Applegate kids always got their teacher's a small gift at Christmas. We didn't have much money so I doubt the gifts were of much value, but Mrs. Turner wrote a thank you note for each one of them that I still have today. I'm pretty sure I could pick out her handwriting if I had to. It's been almost 40 years and I still have those letters (and that piece of tar). Her actions, during that long ago school year, have lasted a lifetime. Kids remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
When Allison was at Sonshine Preschool she left a hairbow. Yes a hairbow. Little did I know then that she would "leave" several items in places through the years. I'm sure it was from Gymboree so I, of course, had to return to get it. Teresa Jennings, or Miss Teresa back then, worked there at the time and she was the first person I saw when I went to get it. She wasn't Allison's teacher, but she went and dug through a tub of lost and found for me anyway to find it. I'm sure she thought I was a crazy parent for caring that much about a hair bow, but she didn't make me feel that way. Parents remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
When Allison was at Sonshine Preschool she left a hairbow. Yes a hairbow. Little did I know then that she would "leave" several items in places through the years. I'm sure it was from Gymboree so I, of course, had to return to get it. Teresa Jennings, or Miss Teresa back then, worked there at the time and she was the first person I saw when I went to get it. She wasn't Allison's teacher, but she went and dug through a tub of lost and found for me anyway to find it. I'm sure she thought I was a crazy parent for caring that much about a hair bow, but she didn't make me feel that way. Parents remember how they were made to feel and how they were treated.
I'm sure every educator has similar stories and every parent does as well. It's the little day to day decisions and actions that we take for granted or don't even realize we are doing that make a difference. I can't think of another profession where you can build those kind of relationships with kids and parents. We DO make a difference. Would the kids I mentioned have had different feelings about school if I had changed how I treated them? Would their parents have changed how they dealt with educators? Would I have the kind things to say about Allison's coach if he hadn't shown me that he cared about her? Did the high school student go out of his way to stop by and say hi to any other former principal? I'm not friends with all of my former teachers, but I am with several and it's because they created memories of a lifetime for me. So ask yourself, if you are conciously thinking about how you answer kids and how you treat them and their parents as well. They remember. I remember. While, Mrs. Jackson's classiness as a teacher (and her red high heels) might have been a part of the "why" I got into education, the kids and the families are why I stay. So take a minute to think about the "why" you got into education, or more importantly, the "why" you stay in education.
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