Friday, May 01, 2020

Thoughts on Teaching and Learning: May 1


Over the past several weeks, I have found myself doing a lot of reflection trying to get this online teaching right.  I keep meaning to get my thoughts on paper but then get caught up in the day-to-day work of teaching in this pandemic era.  I know if I can catch my breath, there is a lot to learn and reflect on during this time. So, I decided that every day in May, I will share my thoughts on Teaching and Learning.  This is Day 1.

Today I am feeling thankful. Thankful for the community of educators who are working so hard to make these months right for our students and to support each other.  I have always relied on thinking with others and I've always believed strongly that none of us can do this work alone. I noticed right off--after saying goodbye to my students not knowing when we'd be back in our classroom--how much I relied on colleagues.  When I found myself planning and teaching alone in my house, I missed thinking with others almost immediately.  I realized how often a 2 minute conversation in the hallway helped me make sense of something and helped me know what to do next in the classroom. I realized quickly that I would need to figure out how to make collaboration happen during this time when all of every educator I knew was busy just trying to keep up and figure this out.  I have relied on so many people to figure out how to do this online teaching and to keep up my energy and hopefulness during these days stuck at home.

I am in awe of all of the sharing and support we are giving to each other and I am so thankful for it. It is truly amazing what we have accomplished together.

I am thankful for Antero Garcia, Detra Price-Dennis and the entire NCTE staff for hosting Member Gatherings each week. When I've been able to attend these gatherings, they have been nourishing and inspiring.

I am thankful for NCTE Ambassadors, Christina Nosek (@ChristinaNosek) and Michelle Rankins (@MichelleRankins), for hosting an NCTE Social Hour that was an hour of self-care that was truly needed.

I am thankful for my Zoom Book Club. After weeks of not being able to read (even though I had plenty of time), I have gotten my reading life back:-)

I am thankful to Mary Lee for her month of poetry. Each one of Mary Lee's poems has helped me make sense of these days and all I have been feeling.  Especially this one.

I am thankful for the authors who have shared lessons, read aloud and been so generous with their time.   And I'm thankful for all of the publishers who have revised policies so that teachers can share books with kids online. And a big thank you to Kate Messner for curating all of this for us, so that we could find everything we need in one place.

I am thankful for Julie Johnson, Mary Lee, Ann Marie Corgill (@acorgill)  and Clare Landrigan who spent more time than I think they probably wanted to helping me think through choice and agency in these early days of distance learning.  Having colleagues who helped me figure out how to stay grounded in the things that are most important--how can we do this work without that?

Thank goodness for group texts --I can't imagine doing this work without being able to text my 5th grade team and local colleagues to get ideas on resources, think through a lesson, figure out a tech tool, etc.

And thank you to the all of the teachers who are writing and sharing their journeys so that we can do better-- Kristin Ziemke and Katie Muhtaris, Stella Villalba, Aeriale JohnsonBernNadette Best-GreenKelly Gallagher and Penny Kittle.

I am so thankful to have rediscovered our National Youth Poet Laureate, Amanda Gorman. If you have not watched and rewatched "The Miracle of Morning", you must. I have watched it several times over these last couple of weeks.

And I am so thankful for this new gift from Katharine Hsu--LemmeTryThat--reminding me about balance and to make time for joy and hobbies and fun. Her weekly newsletters and social media post are fabulous.

As I said early in this post, I noticed during those first few days at home--after we said goodbye to our students not knowing if we'd be back to school--that I have never taught alone. That it is the thinking together that helps us do the best job we can for our students. I worried so much about how that would happen during those first few days planning alone at my kitchen table. But I shouldn't have worried. Our educator community is one I've always been proud and grateful to be part of. I can say that now more than ever.

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Poetry Friday -- Highlights of The Flipside




I had a lot of fun with this year's National Poetry Month poems. Early in the month I started writing etherees, inspired by Liz Garton Scanlon's video lesson.


Gratitude
I
give thanks
for the clouds.
Yes, the same ones
that spoiled your picnic,
that rained on your parade,
that flooded the soccer field.
I am thankful for clouds because
without them there'd be no rainbows, and
behind them there will always be blue skies.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020




Now, More Than Ever
Breathe
in hope,
then exhale
your gratitude.
Remember these truths:
students over standards,
patience over procedures,
compassion over compliance,
care over content, and grace over
gimmicks. We must humanize our teaching.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020




Fifth Grade Lessons
You're
only
eleven
and you're learning
life requires you to
(first and foremost) show up.
Read directions, do your best,
ask for help, give help when you can.
Put one foot in front of the other.
Never take "ordinary" for granted.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



I wrote lots of haiku (sometimes that's all the brain space I had after a day of online teaching). Inspired by Jarrett Lerner, I kept a haiku diary for a day:


Haiku Diary for April 15

I wake up whiney
the sameness of every day
I'm on my last nerve

exercise, shower
a mug of hot tea, breakfast
sun peeks through the trees

my heart pumps, blood flows
lungs reliably inflate
some sameness is good

going to work means
down the hall into office
alone/together


Google Meet is fine
but like all the rest of life
you have to show up

food delivery
a small thing for us to do
makes a big difference

lunchtime luxury
listen to a podcast
nurture my spirit

hours and hours of screens
my brain is totally fried
the cure is ice cream


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



Here are two of the stories I told. The first one is 100% true, but the second one is mostly fiction. In the first stanza, I am the Grandma, the second stanza is me, the third stanza is fiction (after the first line, anyway!), and the fourth stanza is where I was and what I was doing when I wrote the poem.


I Have a New Friend
I have a new friend.
We've never met.
She chalks art and exercise challenges on the sidewalk.
She leaves the chalk out.
I write and draw my thanks.
Her chalk sticks became a pile of chalk pebbles.
I left a package on her porch --
Highlights magazines and gently used sidewalk chalk.
She left a package on my porch --
coloring pages, crayons and markers, four Cra-Z-Loom bracelets.
And a note.
I have a new friend named Annie.
We've never met.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020




Lunch

When Grandma was a girl
she sometimes walked home from school for lunch.
She remembers grilled cheese and tomato soup,
kidney beans and cheese on toast,
peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

Now that school is in my house,
I eat lunch at home every day.
I like to eat the same thing I did at school --
pretzels and a cheese stick, veggies and a fruit.
Keeping lunch the same helps me remember the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was loud and messy.
I traded pretzels for bites of sushi or mini Oreos.
After lunch was recess. I miss recess --
the swings, the big toy, even the muddy soccer field.
I even miss indoor recess.

Sitting on my porch
eating my not-a-school-lunch
at home-is-now-school,
I close my eyes in the sun, listen to the birds,
and remember everything I miss about school.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020




Liz has the Poetry Friday Roundup for today at her blog Elizabeth Steinglass. Happy May!


nature carries on



nature carries on

hyacinths are gone
viburnum is swarmed by bees
daisies will bloom next 


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Lunch




Lunch

When Grandma was a girl
she sometimes walked home from school for lunch.
She remembers grilled cheese and tomato soup,
kidney beans and cheese on toast,
peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

Now that school is in my house,
I eat lunch at home every day.
I like to eat the same thing I did at school --
pretzels and a cheese stick, veggies and a fruit.
Keeping lunch the same helps me remember the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was loud and messy.
I traded pretzels for bites of sushi or mini Oreos.
After lunch was recess. I miss recess --
the swings, the big toy, even the muddy soccer field.
I even miss indoor recess.

Sitting on my porch
eating my not-a-school-lunch
at home-is-now-school,
I close my eyes in the sun, listen to the birds,
and remember everything I miss about school.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


Tuesday, April 28, 2020

There's No Such Thing



There's No Such Thing

There's no such thing
as something from nothing
but potential can surprise us like Spring does
can unfold the way a leaf opens
the way Einstein grew out of an inauspicious childhood
into his genius.
It is the way of the world to
make the improbable possible,
then real.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



The phrase "make the improbable possible, then real" is something Maria Popova said during the live stream of "The Universe in Verse" on Saturday, April 25, 2020.





Monday, April 27, 2020

In the Recent Past




in the recent past
"infectious" and "contagious"
referred to laughter


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



Sunday, April 26, 2020

Dandelions, Ten Days Later




temporary sun
now a galaxy of seeds
blown dandelion


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Saturday, April 25, 2020

I Have a New Friend




I Have a New Friend

I have a new friend.
We've never met.
She chalks art and exercise challenges on the sidewalk.
She leaves the chalk out.
I write and draw my thanks.
Her chalk sticks became a pile of chalk pebbles.
I left a package on her porch --
Highlights magazines and gently used sidewalk chalk.
She left a package on my porch --
coloring pages, crayons and markers, four Cra-Z-Loom bracelets.
And a note.
I have a new friend named Annie.
We've never met.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


Friday, April 24, 2020

Perspectives




Perspectives

I can see the train on the tracks two blocks away,
but an eagle can see a rabbit two miles away.

I can turn my head to look west down the street to the sunset,
but an owl can turn its head to see 270° (plus it can see in the dark.)

I can roll my eyes at Bill's corny puns,
but mantis shrimp and chameleons can roll each eye independently.

I can see your face,
but not your heart.

I can see through tears,
but not through closed doors.

I can see the stars,
but not the future.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


Can it really be the last Friday of National Poetry Month? Christie has the roundup AND the Progressive Poem at Wondering and Wandering.


And then this: Grant Snider is thinking about what we can and cannot see, too!


Thursday, April 23, 2020

What You Want




What You Want

When what you want
is to swim laps in a pool,
a walk in the neighborhood
will have to do.

When what you want
is a hug and high five,
a card or an email
will have to suffice.

When what you want
leaves you high and dry
what you DO have
will just have to satisfy.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020