"I just made a connection!"*

The title of this post can be attributed to my adorable kindergarteners from last semester. In their reading instruction, the librarian and teachers had told the children to make connections to the literature (this later extended to connections with other people, as well) and say the above statement, accompanied by a hand gesture that points from the speaker to the object of connection - basically, the "surf's up" symbol but gesturing back and forth with the thumb and pinky. This symbol became a norm for me and my teaching partner last semester, and every once in a while, we still joke about "connections" we make in class.

I know. Things only teachers would find funny.

Here are some of my kids from the Fall - I miss them so much!

So in my readings for 4210 this past week, I found myself connecting with what the author was telling us about the elements of writing workshop - environment, demonstration, direct instruction, inquiry and homework (Or as the author calls it "the potential of the world." Although what she describes is not traditional homework like this, the term listed above is a little too "PC" for me to use without wanting to laugh. Let's put it this way, if my teachers in school asked me to view a 15-20 page homework assignment as a "potential of the world," it wouldn't make me any more thrilled about having to do it.)

And although I could very easily sit here and write about the connections between the classrooms I've observed in and the writing workship process described in the book, I actually related this topic to something else: my job.

I work as a dance and musical theatre teacher (okay, so it technically is going to relate to teaching) throughout the week, and one of the best parts about musical theatre is the games. I know this must sound like a "cop-out" to many of you, but drama games are a time for students to try something without fear that they're being graded alongside their peers and without having to worry about doing all the steps in a dance "just right."

While the environment of a dance studio can be somewhat monochromatic - all yellow walls, hard wood floors very similar to the color of the walls and mirrors reflecting the all yellow walls and yellow-tinted floor - I would consider it a blank slate of sorts; kind of like the early pages of Harold and the Purple Crayon (one of my favorite books from when I was younger). It holds potential for creativity and imagination ... and most importantly, it offers no distractions for the students. :-) However, with certain games, I must bring in props - costumes, hats, slips of paper and pencils, etc. - and this sets the tone for my students.

Next comes direct instruction: I stand (or more often than not, if my students are sitting, I sit with them) and explain what we'll be doing and what is required of them. Often I'll throw in some theatre jargon like "improv" or "standing profile" to help focus the kids on what their mission for the game is, however, many times I wait until the end of the game so they can tell me what they were working on via this game. This, like the book describes, mostly consists of me talking, yet it is (usually) brief and to the point so we can go on with our game!

The next part is my favorite: demonstration and inquiry at the same time! I have a couple of the students come up and try a game with me and it's my favorite part of class. It's awesome to see them think up their own ideas and also to see them improve week to week with their stage presence. I try to model for them not only as an example during a game, but also when I address them in class. An actor/singer should always be expressive, articulate and direct to their audience, so I always speak loud enough to be heard and express what I'm saying through my gestures and facial expressions. As for the articulation, I'm not always so great at that, but I try not to get too tongue-tied. :-)

Then, students can practice the game by themselves - further inquiry and trial & error: they get to see what works, what doesn't, where they can apply different theatre terms that we've talked about (i.e. In improv, one of the major rules is to never say no. If someone suggests something and you say, "No, I don't want to do that," not only have you stopped the action of the scene, but you've made the other actor have to figure out something entirely different to do. One of the best games to practice this and other responses is "Change of Heart." Students go about a scene talking to each other and when the teacher "buzzes," the actor who just spoke must completely change the line they said before. Once students understand this game, they tend to come up with some hilarious scenarios.

Finally, the best part is seeing these things translate elsewhere. Students will constantly come to class one week and say, "Guess what I saw this week ..." and tell me how they saw a musical at the Fox or how they taught a dance step to their best friend. It's so cool to see them actually absorbing this material, and very reassuring to know that they certainly don't need me to guide them all the time in order to learn. Whew - what a relief, right?

Through this mini-analysis, I've found that my dance teaching and my school teaching are more connected than I originally imagined. Hopefully some of my 5 years or so "in the field" at work will  come in handy in a couple of months when I get my own school classroom. Let's hope so.

To Be or Not to Be ... a Writer?*

* For future-reference, these blog entries with starred* titles are for assignments for class. :-)

If you've been keeping up with me thus far, first of all, God bless you! But secondly, you may remember one of the first things I mentioned in my initial post: how scared I was to start doing this (but also excited). As I read from my textbook for one of my school classes tonight, I began to think about this fear and anxiety I had/have (I haven't decided if it's gone away yet. Maybe by the end of this post, you and I both will know!). Why did I think I would be a bad writer? What made me believe what I would write might even be good? How will people's reactions to my writing determine my identity as a writer?

So I may not have all the answers to these questions, but they at least helped me think of something to write about! Enter this story:

When I was still a journalism major, I decided to take anthropology as one of my electives. I have never struggled so much with a class in my life. Literally, it was the most difficult class of my life - too many dates, scientific names and other things that I happen to be extremely bad at. So after a not-so-perfect test score on the first exam in the class (okay, it was a B, but I had worked my butt off for two weeks studying for that exam, plus I read some of the professor's critiques of my answers and thought I had actually fulfilled some of the suggestions within my answer), I asked to meet my teacher during his office hours to talk about it.

I promise this is not going to be all about my anthropology class. Please bear with me ...

To cut this story slightly short(er), the one thing I really remember about that meeting - and that class for that matter - was something my professor remarked after hearing I was a journalism major.

"I had a friend who was a writer. He told me that his advice for anyone who writes was to write everyday. You should keep a journal and write something each day. It doesn't have to be important or anything, just good practice."

This seemingly off-hand comment actually stuck in my head and I started journaling later that week. Unfortunately, as with many of my off-chance commitments, this did not last long, and it definitely hasn't lasted me through my journey towards becoming a teacher. I thought writing was for writers, not teachers. And yes, teachers can write, and many of them do. But it wasn't a necessity.

I believe perhaps two of the things that have kept me from writing consistently include (1) my uncomprimising certainty of ultimate failure with no room for growth and (2) how writing has been presented in my life, particularly in my schooling.

I'll start with the first.

Cynthia Rylant said in a 1990 article that "not everyone can be a writer." For a long time, I believed her. It's not that I don't necessarily enjoy writing or that I can't put together a decent paper; it is that I felt as though I had nothing important to say or impart, and I certainly had no way of figuring out how to voice such opinions even if they did exist. I lived under the impression that writing is something that I did when necessary and although I was successful at it, I had no reason to bring it into my "outside" life.

Which brings me to my second point. (That would make sequential sense, right?)

In school, I never remember doing writing workshop. And when I started reading my textbook a couple of days ago, I maintained the idea that writing workshops were nice, but not necessary. Yes, it would be great, but are we really harming our students if we don't include it in our curriculum? Then I started to think about how school influenced my identity as a self-proclaimed "non-writer." In school, I could write papers in a matter of hours and be successful at it. But that's all I did. If school required it, then I could bring myself to throw something together. Imagine how much better my papers would have been 1) if I'd actually cared about what I had written about in those countless reflections and essays (this was not always the case, mind you, but 97% of the time, I simply completed an assignment because I needed to) and 2) if I'd practiced writing outside of these many, many papers. Hm ... Maybe then I wouldn't be so afraid of something as simple as blogging.

So what do I want my students to think of themselves when it comes to writing? Do I want them to think writing is simply something that they have to do in order to get through school and holds no important place outside that arena? Not really. That would make for a pretty crummy writing environment in my classroom. Sounds like time for some perspective changing!

The author of my textbook mentioned how the label of "writer" was similar to any identity label. If someone asked whether you were a "cook," your definition of what a cook is determines your answer. For me, I would not necessarily consider myself a good cook, but do I cook a lot? Yes. Do I enjoy cooking? Yes. Do I plan on trying to become a good cook? Yes. Hmmm ... so maybe I am a cook afterall. Just because Jamie Oliver could kick my chocolate-loving butt at cooking, does that mean I'm not a cook? Not really, right? Even if I'm a bad cook - the noun "cook" still describes me.

So what about writing? Why had I been so determined to not be labeled a writer? Why the anxiety that my blog was going to be insignificant and unworthy of reading? (Not that this might not ultimately happen, but still ...) Just because I might not be the best writer - I might even be a bad writer - does this mean I still can't label myself as a writer?

Well, maybe I can ... In fact, maybe I should if I want this "blogging thing" to work out. And this "teaching writing thing," for that matter. If I can call myself a writer, just as if I call my students writers, then as I would want them to feel confident and take chances, I might do the same. It's all a process. It takes practice. Just like I had to practice piano, or singing. Or how I'm trying to practice cooking.

So know that these posts are not going to be perfect. I certainly won't consider them as such, and I know you won't either. But I'm trying. It's all practice to get better. So maybe if you stick with me for a while, this silly blog might turn into something of better substance. :-) Let's hope so.

I'll finish with my favorite quote from my recent readings: "[I]f we engage in any activity over time, we develop an identity related to that, whether we label ourselves 'a cook' or 'a writer' or not."

So - to be or not to be a writer? Well, why not? Let's give it a shot ... here goes nothing.

Welcome to 3rd Grade!

So today was a day of firsts for me - all of which were very exciting and only some of which were also very nerve-wracking.
First of all, I had my first day of school with my field placement class and my new mentor teacher for my Block 3 classes. As much as I wanted to stay in the fetal position at 6 am this morning, the feeling that I would be sick due to nerves stirred me and up I got! On my way to the school - which is sort of out in the middle of Nowheresville - a flood of anxious thoughts were buzzing through my mind : Am I going the right way? Am I going to be late? What are these kids going to think of me? What am I getting myself into?  ... and for once (another first), I didn't feel like listening to music.

In case you don't know me, you must learn this first and foremost (a first for you, let's say): music is EVERYTHING in my life. I live, breathe and if I could, I would eat it, too (and I like eating - that's another thing you can learn, but I'll talk about it later). I listen to it in the shower, when I wake up, while I'm cooking, when I do homework, when I workout - you name it. So me specifically choosing to not listen to music is kind of a big deal. Yeah ... I was definitely a little scared. :-)

But, of course, there was nothing to be worried about. As soon as I walked in the door to see the class eating some very good-smelling chicken biscuits, the teacher greeted me with a cheerful "Welcome!" which sounded a little muddled between bites of his own chicken biscuit! He immediately calmed my butterflies and made me feel at ease.

And then came my next "firsts"- two at once this time: "Hi class, this is Mrs. Hitchcock."

Oh my. Who???
Not only was my last name different (made even more apparent because I was wearing a nametag bearing my maiden name ... confusing much?), but what was this "Mrs." business? Hmmm...  This whole being married thing has definitely taken some adjusting to - most of which has been fun. I'm so happy with every aspect of my life, except that I still need to hang curtains in my house ... and a couple other house-keeping issues ... but really - if that's it, then not bad, right? And just like all the other adjustments,  after about the 50th time of hearing it throughout the day, I kind of liked the sound of it. Except for the fact that it makes me sound like I'm supposed to be a full-grown adult. Yeah, right. ;-)

By the way, did I mention I was working with 3rd graders this year (aka Did you read the title of this post?)? Cuz I am! I'm super excited because I've had only a little exposure to the upper-grades in elementary school - a couple of weeks with an absolutely phenomenal class and an even more amazing teacher - but an entire semester? Ah!! Well, let's just say the first thing I learned about them is that they have some great attitude ... and I mean that in every sense of the word! There is such a range of learners, too; anywhere from a handful of special ed students being helped and those on an RTI plan (response to intervention) to those performing at very high levels and all those in between. I'm curious to see what sort of insights these students will offer me and how learning about their lives will help improve my teaching. And hopefully, I can do something for them, too!

Needless to say, I'm super-duper excited (obviously, since I saw fit to add a 'duper' in there - woah.) about this upcoming semester, and I'm looking forward to what I'm going to learn from my teacher (who, by the way, used to be a music teacher and plays in a band - right up my music-lovin' alley!!!) and my students. So, welcome to 3rd grade, anyone who's listening! And stick around for the ride because it's going to be quite a journey! Ready, set .... !

Define "good," please ...

The thought of starting a blog as a class assignment came with many feelings on my part: 1) excitement because I would finally have to start blogging - something I've wanted to try for ages, 2) frustration because it meant that it was something else I would have to keep up with throughout the year and thus something else I will ultimately procrastinate on, and 3) fright because now I'm expected to present something that anyone can read whenever they want, and I'm expected to be thoughtful and entertaining? I don't know about this ...

First of all, I should start by facing the reality that probably not many people will want to read a class-assigned blog, so feeling 3 shouldn't be much of a problem. Also, hopefully feeling 1 will continue, thus making feeling 2 non-existent (please please please ...). So all-in-all, I'm left feeling ... nothing? Oh well, I'll figure that one out later and get back to you. :-)
On to what prompted me to put aside my not-so-exciting reading material and begin the arduous task of putting together this blog. What makes writing "good"? If feeling 3 bothers me so much, how can I go about ensuring that my ultimate failure as a blogger will not come about?

In reality, this question began with an assignment I had for school where I was to reflect on what writing meant to me (If you're thinking it's the same class that wants us to practice writing by blogging, you would be correct! Must be a writing class, right?). I began blabbing about how words are powerful and can carry meaning and how song lyrics, poems, and newspaper articles can stir emotions and actions in people through the arrangement of letters representing words in order to ultimately convey ideas. While I certainly believe all these things to be true (yes - I tend to romanticize things), I began wondering why I happened to like Pride and Prejudice and A Tale of Two Cities but (many) others - most of them my high school classmates - do not. Or why I might think Justin's Bieber's music is ridiculous and unimportant (but I will give him catchy), while it causes another girl to become hysterical and ultimately meet her teen idol on late-night television. Either way, the best I could come up with was that critique is objective ... and really, didn't we all know that already?

I would be denying you another several paragraphs of inconclusive rambling if I didn't tell you another instance that happened only moments ago that led me to further ponderings (No, this is not a word. I checked. While this would usually bother me to the extent of needing a stress ball to calm down, I tend to make up words when I converse normally, so in an attempt to sound "natural" and conversational in my writing, I'm allowing it.). While attempting to read a school book (yes, the same mentioned above in the second paragraph), I could not help but try to figure out why this author thought the first four paragraphs (which turned into two pages, which turned into four) were worth including in a textbook and what value they offered me as a teacher-in-training. Then I began to think about all those textbooks (and pleasure books) that I'd "read" throughout my life (I use "read" loosely because the literature of which I'm about to speak often ended up either being put aside or lightly skimmed and marked with a pretty highlighter so I could pretend it offered something of substance to my learning experience) where I'd sat there and thought, "Why am I reading this?"

I know you know what I'm talking about. We've all encountered some form of literature where we've been completely dumbfounded as to the point (Some of you may consider this to be one of those examples ... and in some ways, I would definitely agree with you. Yet, at the same time, I would argue that the Internet is not necessarily known as the most credible source for valuable information, so that's your fault.) of its existence in print. You know those books where you sit and try to read, but find yourself reading the same page over and over again and you still haven't understood what's going on? Ding, ding, ding!

So while "reading" this book, I wondered if this author considered their writing "good." And I'm certainly not trying to discredit this author; you'll (hopefully) see my point in a minute. Let's look at it this way: this author has succeeded in not only comprising a little over 250 pages all concerning something they find important to education, but in getting a publishing company to realize a similar importance of these pages and the words they contain and as a result, it prints them in mass quantities. Then, one of my teachers must have heard about this book or come across it and deemed it worthy to represent the class I'm about to take and the objectives we're to accomplish throughout the semester. Wow. Quite an accomplishment.

And yet, so far I can barely make it through five pages without wondering why this is going to help me in my future classroom. Now, I would need to gather the opinions of others who've read this book by questioning my classmates, reading book reviews, etc., so my question of whether it is truly "good" or not has yet to be even remotely touched upon.
But, I thought I'd at least raise the question. So next time you're reading a book, see if you can figure out why someone thought it was worth being selected to help "educate the masses." And maybe decide whether you think that reason is applicable to you and the things you want/need to read. Because the words in that text might not matter much to me, but that doesn't mean my opinion can determine a piece of literature as "good." So what do you think? What qualities should a piece of literature possess to make it truly "good"? Think about it. Then, (ready, set) write me back.