Poetry Friday -- Remote Teaching

photo via Unsplash

Each day

I thread the needle of my heart

and stitch together

my quilt-square students

into a tapestry

of joy

and learning.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2021

The WORK of teaching online does not relent. It's brutal. But I never could have imagined how deeply connected I would be to my students (and they to each other) without ever being together in person. There is joy every day. The joy of a student who has finally mastered the steps for long division, the joy of their creativity in creating websites, the joy of our little inside jokes (for example, the "Loading Loading Loading" song we sing). 

I'm joining the Poetry Sisters' metaphor challenge today, and I look forward to tomorrow, when I'll read through the Poetry Friday roundup at Karen Edmisten* before I go and get my second COVID shot.  

Poetry Saturday -- The Week in Poetry

What a week. But also -- what a week in poetry.

On Tuesday, as I drove towards the beginning of the second half of the grand experiment known as Remote Learning Academy, I listened to Pádraig Ó Tuama on Poetry Unbound. I had finished listening to King and the Dragonflies that morning while I exercised and I hadn't chosen my next audiobook. Podcast time! I was a little behind on Poetry Unbound episodes. I chose Ellen Bass -- Bone of My Bones and Flesh of My Flesh. I'll wait while you go listen, if you haven't already.

At the end of his commentary, Ó Tuama says,

"I think this poem invites us to think about the power of language and how language can serve to silence or to eradicate or to erase or deny, or to elevate and acknowledge. And even within those denials, people survive with defiance, and they can raise language to an even better level of acknowledgement and public celebration about what love looks like, especially when that love and that dignity has been denied."

The words in bold/italics are what lifted me up on that drive to school, and as I wrote my welcome back message on Google Classroom, I referred to my students as "my lovelies."

In the comments to that post, AP expressed delight at being referred to as "my lovelies." So on Wednesday, I addressed them as an "Amazing Rainbow of Awesomeness." AP was nearly giddy. Would I do it again on Thursday? she asked. How could I not? On Thursday, they were "my sweet babboos" and on Friday, "Dear Ones." 

Thank you, Pádraig Ó Tuama, for inspiring me to find and create terms of endearment that infuse more expressions of love into my classroom. This is another one of those seeds that I plant, having no way of knowing if/how it will later sprout in these children's lives. But it's a seed worth planting.

Also this week, I started my Poem-A-Week project. After realizing that there are 20 weeks left in the school year, and therefore the opportunity for the close study of (just!) 20 poems, I asked the world (via Twitter) for suggestions of poems I might include. I made my choices, but then promptly chose something for the first week that wasn't part of the original plan. And it turned out perfectly. As we began a new routine of choosing reading goals and logging reading and evidence for our goals in a new and simplified digital reader's notebook (aka BOB, which stands for Book of Books, hat tip to Monica Edinger for the original idea of BOB and Maria Caplin for the digital BOB), and as I reminded myself to START SLOWLY, I chose Lee Bennett Hopkins' "Good Books, Good Times!" 

Each day we read the poem (I encourage them to read along behind their muted microphones) and then do just a little bit of unpacking together (hat tip to Tara Smith for the idea of unpacking poems). I have created a slide show for the poems and for documentation of the unpacking work. Here's the plan: on the first day, I just read the poem (projected so they can read along); day two, after reading the poem, I invite reactions/noticing; day three is meaning/craft; day four is respond/connect; day five (I haven't had one yet) might be a guest reader who will also give their thoughts about the poem. I'm making this a routine, but keeping the poem choice flexible on my end so I can be responsive to my learners and the events of the world. 

In light of 1/6/21, my choice for next week's poem might be " 'Hope' is the thing with feathers" by Emily Dickinson, or "The Peace of Wild Things" by Wendell Berry. (I think "Let America Be America Again" by Langston Hughes is too much for fifth grade, but it's the poem in MY heart right now.) Whatever I choose, it will be a way in for us to talk about the events of 1/6/21. My students weren't ready to talk on Thursday, and yesterday I invited them to give me feedback on why they were hesitant to talk about the news. I got some valuable insight. But that's another post for another day...or week. Stay tuned.

Poetry. Another seed worth planting.

Sorry to be a day late for Poetry Friday. This may be my new normal moving forward. Sylvia has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Poetry for Children. 

(If you've had trouble with your comments disappearing from our blog, I think it's because the site takes a LONG time to load. That's what happens when you have 15 years worth of content (happy belated blog anniversary to A Year of Reading)! Here's the hack: stop the page from loading before you type/submit your comment.)

Poetry Friday -- Messages From the Universe

 This morning, between this page (which I've already seen) in my Everyday Offerings book...

...and this page (which I've already seen)...

I found this new message for the day:

And I flipped over the next card in my meditation deck...

WOW. 

I looked up, and the vase of flowers on my table said this:

Wednesday night, listening to the Scholastic Independent Reading Panel, I heard Peter H. Reynolds say this:

a gentle rebel

leans outside the box

as far as they can

(without being fired)

Earlier on Wednesday, one of my students shot an observation straight into my heart: "This is so hard. This way of learning." What she was missing the most were the times of collaboration and conversation students have while working side by side in a physical classroom. Our remote learning independent work times are solitary, and my learners have been isolated during these work times.

The words of Peter H. Reynolds nudged me to reconsider our daily schedule. Could I make time for my students to virtually sit side by side, working together, helping each other (and certainly chatting a bit)? 

Yes. And when I previewed our new schedule with the class, they were SO appreciative that I'd listened and responded. 

The Scholastic Independent Reading Panel speakers helped me to reimagine my daily message to my students about their 30 minute independent reading time:

• How are the books you’re choosing helping you to become the person you want to be?
• How are the books you’re choosing helping you to understand the lives and feelings of others?
• How are the books you’re reading bringing you joy?
• How are the books you’re reading helping you to understand your own identity?
• How are the books you’re reading helping you to understand the way the world works so that you can make it a better place for everyone?

And those first messages in my Everyday Offerings book? They have helped me lean further out of my box than I ever thought possible as I plan for a study of what happens in a democracy AFTER an election. About the work regular citizens do to keep our nation running.

we make some noise

we split open and sparkle

then put the pieces together

become a magnet for miracles

and bloom with wild abandon

Thank you, Universe.

Happy Friday, friends! Happy Poetry Friday!

Linda B. has graciously rescued this week's Poetry Friday roundup at TeacherDance. 2020 strikes again!

Remote Teaching Journey -- Assumptions and Conversations

 

One of my new routines for this year is link to the CNN10 news for the day in an open Google doc with a table where my scholars can add their name, plus their noticing and wondering.

The first day I added this to our schedule (Thursday this week), there was a story about housing in LA and how homeowners are converting two car garages into apartments. I made the assumption that this would not be an engaging part of the news show for 10 year-olds, but recommended it as connected to our social studies standards on the topic of Economics.

In our end-of-day Google Meet, I shared how surprised I was that many had connected with that news story in their notice/wonders. One girl piped up that she found it fascinating because she wants to be an architect. Another loved that people did this not just for the money, but to help people have a home near their work.

Lesson: Never Assume.

In a writing workshop lesson under the doc camera, we began creating our identity webs this week. As I made mine, I talked about identity as the story we tell about ourselves. When I meet someone new, one part of my story often begins with, "I am a teacher." 

I went on to explain that identity is also the things about us that people see, and I added "woman" and "kind of old" and "white skin" to my identity web. I explained that I often don't think of my identity of "woman" until I am in a place where that stands out, at the car repair shop, for instance, where I am likely the only woman there. I encouraged them to think of the parts of their identity that others see.

On Friday, we watched this video about Ibtihaj Muhammad, which led to conversations about the meaning of the words stereotype and bias, and then I read aloud The Proudest Blue. 

Lesson: My commitment to be an antiracist teacher will not be revealed in big splashy announcements about my commitment, but rather in all the small conversations we will have (planned and unplanned) throughout the year. Being an antiracist teacher is a way of life, not a lesson plan.

Remote Teaching Journey -- More Realities

image via Unsplash

We had our virtual Meet the Teacher this past Thursday. 

On the one hand, having a new group of children on the screen in front of me gave all of the impossibly overwhelming work of the week up to that point a fresh meaning and urgency. It jazzed me up and got me excited.

On the other hand, the reality that I will not simply be teaching 28 children in the desks in front of me in my classroom, but rather 28 FAMILIES that I may or may not be able to see off-screen, but who are possibly-sometimes or definitely-always listening in to every word I say, took my breath away with the awesome responsibility for the careful choice of every word and the necessity of my absolute adherence to the highest level of professionalism every minute of screen time every single day. Yikes! When I make mistakes this year, they will be very public mistakes. And that's humbling (and frightening), to say the least.

At the same time, what an amazing opportunity to teach whole families, rather than just the children! I'm not going to lie -- I've been a little nervous about teaching our 5th grade standards about the history of the Western Hemisphere and about the forms of government.  How much of the truth of our history of brutal colonialism could or should 10 year-olds learn? How, in light of the crumbling of our country's democratic ideals in the past four (or four hundred) years, could I instill in 10 year-olds a belief in the values of democracy, when my own beliefs have been so shaken? 

How? I listened to the recent speeches by Barack and Michelle Obama, and Kamala Harris (glad I know how to pronounce her name correctly!!) and Joe Biden. I was reminded not to give up on the values of our democracy, and I was inspired to help a generation that won't vote for another several election cycles begin to understand the role of citizens taking action to make change in shaping our democracy and our country into something we can all be proud of, and that serves all citizens equally. Because I'll be teaching the families, and not just the children, maybe I can remind the parents what our country can be again if we, the adults in the room, take our civic responsibility seriously. 

What a year!

Remote Teaching Journey -- Realities

 

Some realities we cannot choose (see cleaning supplies and gallon jug of hand sanitizer in the background). Some realities we can choose (see flowers and Everyday Offerings book in the  foreground). 

One of the things I am doing for myself this year is fresh flowers on the classroom table every week.

How about you? How are you planning to take care of yourself this year?

First Things First

Remember that rollercoaster poem from last Friday? Well, we've dropped in. We're done with the ready and the set, and it's all go. This year, I'll be teaching at least the first semester in Dublin's Remote Learning Academy.

So much will be different this year, but just like every other year of my teaching career, I couldn't begin thinking about the nitty gritty details until I took care of a few other things first.

Before I could do anything else, I needed to get my physical classroom set up. I'm lucky enough to be able to teach from my room in the building, and I've designed a couple of spaces in my room for my teaching.

I moved my desk so that behind me is my big language arts bulletin board. There will be space for student work and new anchor charts. I'll make new homophone, homonym, and homograph charts that we'll fill together. I'll leave the message from Ibrahim and Mustafa to "Trust yourself, work hard, give your best effort every day!" and I'll figure out a way for us to continue the ritual of choosing a new word that we can BE each week of the school year.

I set up a place where I can stand to teach that will be perfect for math instruction. Behind me in this space is my number corner calendar and a whiteboard for math lessons. At the low table with the lamp is my doc camera. What you can get a hint of in the bottom left corner of the picture is that all the desks and chairs are stacked there in the middle of the classroom where our meeting area used to be.

This will be the perfect place to do live picture book read alouds. It will be like we're together in the picture book nook for #classroombookaday!

The next thing I had to attend to before I could focus on the nitty gritty was my classroom library. I'm still not sure how I'm going to get books in the hands of my students, but I want them to be able to browse the shelves of my physical classroom library. I created a slide show that has a table of contents and all the books "shelved" in one or more categories/genres. It's not pretty (yet), but I think it will work. I took photos of the covers of most all of my chapter books, plus some group shots of series books, cameos of some of my longer nonfiction books, and lots of my big anthologies of poetry. From the table of contents, a book browser can jump to any category, and from each category heading, the book browser can jump back to the table of contents. 

And now I'll work on my virtual classroom -- my Google Classroom.  This will be the perfect bridge to the nitty gritty. As I consider how to organize this space and what resources to add before we even get started, I will begin to be able to get my head around the ways I'll build community, assess my students' strengths and needs, and move forward with an amazing year of learning...for both the students, their families, AND me!! As Patrick Allen said it so perfectly, "Learning is a lifelong journey."