A Note from the Teacher

Families will be returning their borrowed tech devices to school this week, and many teachers are hoping that they'll be able to pick up one last packet from us before the start of summer vacation.  Some students will experience a continuation of their current stay-cation, while others will be packing up to move when Uncle Sam finally decides upon their military parent's next duty assignment.

This will be the last time this year's Super Stars will receive feedback or a note from me, and most likely it will be added by parents to their child's copy of Oh, the Places You'll Go! or some other keepsake book that will be given upon graduation from high school.  As seventeen and eighteen-year-olds there's a good chance my students won't remember me, but they may retain clear memories of when they unexpectedly had to continue their kindergarten learning activities from home.  While heartfelt, honest sentiments are always best, the conclusion of this year has me feeling raw and exhausted. I cannot bring myself to handwrite these notes. I've tried writing one to see if I could then scan it, a solution suggested by my husband, but I hate the look of the lined paper, and frankly, my wobbly penmanship.  With my thoughts clear but my wrist and fingers unwilling to execute, I came across another way to solve the problem: adhesive mailing labels.  I can type and then print what I want to say, handwrite each salutation and closing, and keep the sticker backing in place so that parents can easily add it to their child's book.  

Every year I give my Stars a final storybook, an end-of-the-year certificate, and a copy of our memory video on a disc. 

This year they will also receive this note:

Children will tell their parents "Oh, Mrs. Sommerville always says 'goodness gracious me' (or 'goodness gracious Google') and 'okie dokie artichoke-y,'" and hopefully my Stars and their families will understand how much I appreciate them without becoming sad.  It's been emotional, writing this last note from the teacher for both a present-day almost first-grader and a future high school graduate.  I hope that when my Stars read it again twelve years from now that it affirms how much they have been valued by not only their families but by their teachers, too. 

Goodnight Room... But For How Long?

My room is packed and put away, my report cards are finished, and my curriculum is checked in.  At the same time that I was turning off the classroom lights and turning in my key today, other schools in the country were opening back up and admitting students.  I'll admit it: I cried. I cried for myself, cried for my Super Stars, and cried for the teachers and students stuck in horrible situations where going back to school while COVID19 remains just as dangerous and deadly is preferable to staying at home.

Because at home there might not be any food.  Or at home, the only engagement from family members may be abusive or neglectful. Maybe there isn't a home at all.

As for the accommodations that reopening schools are making for students, especially in regard to kindergarten and other early childhood grades, I just want to cry some more.  It doesn't matter if you space individual student desks and chairs six feet apart: young children seek connection, and they seek to interact with toys, materials, books, textures, nooks, crannies, scents, tastes, and one another.  They don't just want hugs when they get hurt, they need them.  They need them when they're scared, proud, unsure, and filled with joy.  They explode with enthusiasm, anger, fear, relief, discovery, and acknowledgement, and it doesn't matter if there's a poster with rules on it or a sticker chart "rewarding" (shaming) them into compliance, or a reminder note, or the threat of a phonecall home put in place to "manage" them: NOTHING is going to change the fact that these dynamic, organic, spontaneous and constantly inquisitive learners will not be contained.

And if they decide that their masks itch, or are too tight, or feel gross after they open-mouth cough and sneeze into them leaving a soggy mess rubbing against their skin?  How many extras will be sent to school in backpacks, or distributed by teachers? How about when students play with the masks or take them off while using the restroom, dropping them to the floor, or dangling them from their little fists as they grip the toilet seat and flusher?  How "preventative" and "protective" will that be? Nosepickers and booger-eaters (just keeping it real, because it's important that none of us ignores all authentic aspects of childhood as we swift march ourselves toward "solutions" that make grownups feel good) aren't going to stop picking, eating, and wiping those germy morsels all over themselves, the furniture and other surfaces or objects just because they're wearing masks.  And when those masks begin to chafe and hurt their faces, or families discover that their children are allergic to the fabric content of the masks and ties?  How about the vomit?  Good lord, the vomit.

Arranging desks six feet apart is a new classroom layout. It is not proof that the children who sit in them (or the teacher who will sit and stand elsewhere) will be safe. Requiring children to wear masks shows that we're attempting to reduce the spread of disease, but it doesn't prove that we're going to succeed, especially when we continue to make decisions while purposely refusing to consider how young children will, in fact, remain tactile young learners who simply aren't designed to leave things alone.  And for those students who will remove their masks, refuse to wear them, or wear them ineffectively?  Who will be blamed when those children become sick?  How many long-term subs will be available to replace the teachers who become sick due to exposure from children or from the over-use of disinfectants?  How many family members who remain at home will become ill from school children?  And when parents return to work, only to become sick themselves?  Their family goes into quarantine, including their schoolchildren, correct?

I'm no virologist, but I **know** kindergarteners.  I **know** children.  And I **know** adults.  So do you... which is why reopening schools is an experiment, at best.

At worst, it'll cause more than just tears.

How are you doing? What are you doing?

Fellow educators, how are you doing?

Me... I'm still in the process of establishing a new daily routine.  The stay at home and help my teenager adapt to his new schedule routine. The stay at home and help my teenager adapt to his new schedule while connecting with students and families routine.  The stay at home and help my teenager adapt to his new schedule while connecting with students and families at the same time I'm doing laundry and disinfecting frequently touched surfaces routine.  The stay at home and help my teenager adapt to his new schedule while connecting with students and families at the same time I'm doing laundry and disinfecting frequently touched surfaces in between learning new digital platforms and creating content to be posted to those platforms routine.

The do-all-of-the-above while attending multiple Zoom meetings, and then, when the videoconferencing is done for the day, sewing masks for the family routine.

For me, the hardest of all has been the do-ALL-of-the-above while reminding myself often that everyone is free to have their own opinions and coping mechanisms and latitude in how they express their emotions, even when it's in not-so-nice ways and inflicts additional stress upon everyone else while we're calling it all "granting grace" routine.  There's a very good chance you know what I mean.  Not everyone rises to the occasion.  There are even some who refuse to try. 

Yes, there are folks whose stay-at-home routines include health issues, and the loss of friends and family and security and safety.  I can't let myself wallow in either empathy or sympathy simply because I'd feel like I was drowning in sorrow. I experience it, affirm that I am still a human being, and then put it aside.  It's how I continue to function semi-effectively.

What are you doing?  Have you annexed some part of your living space to serve as a makeshift backdrop for your time with students? Are you scrambling to learn Google Classroom, Seesaw, Loom, or some other such thing?  Have any of your pets, children or spouses "crashed" your video recordings or meetings? 

Thankfully, my recent Master's Degree in Educational Technology has already served me well by planting my feet directly upon the baseball diamond, rather than on the edges or barely within the ballpark itself.  Seesaw, Loom, Zoom, and creation tools such as PowerPoint are intuitive for me, but I know they aren't for many other teachers.

Whether I'm recording "good morning," storytime, fingerplays and songs, instructional, or "goodbye, see you tomorrow" videos, or attending grade level, building or district Zoom meetings, Tish-Tish chooses to join me, enabled by the fact that my teaching backdrop is situated within my craft room downstairs affording her easy access.  Teachers in my district were able to retrieve essentials from our classrooms, our choices guided by the Kansas State Department of Education's Continuous Learning Plan. I brought home my document camera, manipulatives, some recognizable classroom charts and lots and lots of storybooks that have been stored on a bookshelf and in tubs on the floor near my desk.

I was also able to rescue plants from my classroom and grabbed some other decor to catch my students' eyes, though the wall of yarn was a really big distraction for the first few days.

I've worked ahead, creating ELA, Math, and social-emotional content four days in advance in an effort to avoid the frequent internet outages that take place in my neck of the woods. Reading and recording a story the day that it's to be enjoyed by kindergarteners is a gamble I'm not willing to take. Has it helped that my internet provider was bought out at the start of the pandemic and is now owned by a company whose customer service has yet to yield an actual human being with whom I can interact in real-time as I inquire about my account and service?  No, not so much.  I know, they're experiencing the same difficulties we all are. 

If only we'd had, oh, I don't know... advance warning that this type of situation was on the horizon.  But I digress.  

I've found humor and joy in the little things, like drinking my coffee out of previously not-appropriate-for-school mugs:

... and lending my smiling face and a sweet sentiment so that a colleague could create  a "we miss you" video for all of the students in our school:

 I've also discovered new things about myself, such as:

1) I'm not a pajama-wearing teacher even when I'm at home.  I'm a business-on-the-top-and-yoga-pants-on-the-bottom professional. 

2) I have never wanted sneak peeks into my colleague's bedrooms, especially not during meetings.  Didn't have to worry about that until now.  As it turns out, I still don't want sneak peeks into their bedrooms.  I don't care if you're comfortable rocking your best bed-head hairstyle, just do me a favor and choose to flaunt it while you sit at your dining room table or out on the back porch during our meetings, okie dokie?

3) I'm not a big fan of motion sickness, which is probably why I've never enjoyed videos featuring hand-held videography or subjects who insist on always being in motion. Lordie, people, put the device down on a sturdy surface and plant yourself in front of it. 

4) I go into withdrawals when I don't have access to my students, our routine, our schedule, our laughter, our... us-ness. It's not pretty. 

5) Though I'm a kindergarten teacher, I would love to do read alouds for upper-elementary and middle school students.  The Girl Who Drank the Moon would be the first book I would read and record for middle schoolers if I had the opportunity.

*****

I hope you're well, and that your friends and family and co-workers and neighbors are experiencing good health while exercising good judgment.

As for me, Tish-Tish has decided it's time to collaborate and sort through activity pages for next week, and I'm not one who tends to argue with administration.

Extended Home Time: Digital Resources and Learning Tool Tips for Families

We received news today that our teenager has another week of Spring Break, while today is my first day off. How am I spending my Saturday? Collecting video content to share with my students' families just in case our vacation is extended, too.

Thanks to our efforts to reduce the effects of COVID-19, my students may have the opportunity to reconnect with family, enjoy more unstructured and imaginative playtime, and explore their interests more fully.  But being with children all day long is not an easy job. Our established schedules are essential for helping kids to self-regulate, anticipate and plan for activities, and feel safe as they adjust to unanticipated changes, so the sooner a dependable routine is put into place at home, the better.  And, admittedly, parents and caregivers are going to need some ten or fifteen-minute blocks of "free" time as they find ways to help their young learners fill their days away from the routine of school.  

I've used Symbaloo to collect and sort digital content for my students for several years now, and have appreciated all of the webmixes that have been shared by others that have made it possible for me to NOT have to recreate the wheel while discovering wonderful resources such as Art Hub for Kids, Cosmic Kids Yoga, and Sag-Aftra Foundation's Storyline Online (they have a free app!) at the same time.

If you're wanting to offer families and students some additional content to help them get through their days off from school, feel free to explore Symbaloo by signing up for a free basic account, and use the search function to find webmixes like mine:

Yoga webmix here.

Story Time webmix here.

... and How to Draw webmix found here.

What kinds of activities might families want to plan for as they work with their children at home? Creating a schedule, for one, assigning blocks of time for meal preparation, chores, playtime with siblings, storytime, exercise and/or fresh air opportunities, quiet time (away from siblings), writing and drawing, exploring math concepts (not everything has to be a math worksheet, by the way), creative expression/art, music and movement, and clean up. Plan it, schedule it, follow it every day. 

Families who have heavily relied upon schools to provide their children with opportunities to use markers, scissors, paint, and other tools, may now find themselves in need of quick tutorials on how to set up a writing or art station at home.  Before exploring inspiration boards on Pinterest, these parents should know that they will want to supervise their children when they allow them to use scissors and tools with ink at home: no leaving cutting tools, markers, pens or paint down and within easy reach until a routine regarding their use is well established. After each day's clean up, these tools should be collected and safely stored by the adult, unless they'd like to discover that their walls, furniture, clothes, and even pets have undergone a colorful and choppy transformation. 

What do children love to use? 

Colored pencils

Markers

Stamps

Paint, paintbrushes (but Q-tips and other objects used for stamps are fun too!)

Pens

Crayons

Paper: construction; writing; painting; old magazines and newspapers; even junk mail!

Play Doh (here's a link to a make-at-home version from This Tiny Blue House)

Rulers, yardsticks, tracing stencils

Cookie cutters (for dough and for tracing)

Parents can round these items up, sort them and store them in tubs, containers, or clear baggies and put them near the area where they will be used most often, making sure that their children sort them into their proper containers at the end of each day.  Then the adults can disinfect the items and let them sit overnight up and out of reach. Toys, books and puzzles can also benefit from a good sorting and cleaning after extended and repeated use, which children can easily do with guidance and supervision.  When these items are ready for some disinfectant, parents can utilize a digital resource such as yoga, a directed drawing activity, or storytime video in webmixes like those above to engage children, while they clean doorknob germs and wipe down surfaces to help maintain a healthy living space.

Or use the bathroom, you know, like teachers do. 

***** 

Edited to add on April 13, 2020:

Hello Kelsey, I'm glad you were able to find something useful during your visit to my blog.  I've taught kindergarten for twenty-plus years now, and have found that the two constants in education (when we consider things such as instructional styles, tips and tricks, technology adoption and effective use, or even our current COVID19 crisis, etc.)  are change and inequality.  The needs and strengths of students, teachers and communities differ in the here and now, AND they evolve over time.  For educators like me who have taught in culturally diverse parts of our country, that change is marked not only with each successive school year but during each relocation to a new neighborhood, town or state.  In addition to developing well-rounded, inclusive pedagogy, I'd have to say that two of the most necessary skills that effective educators must develop are 1) the ability to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear and 2) the ability to quickly filter through of all of the content that is tossed into their faces.  Be able to make the most out of what you have, and learn to sort through the sea of salesmanship so that you are putting the best resources available into the hands of your students.  Create, and appreciate NOT having to recreate the wheel when you encounter a quality tool.  

When I first began teaching, I knew I could ask the reading resource teachers, speech and language interventionists, bi-lingual liaisons, cafeteria staff, OT/PT staff, the school nurse, neighborhood businesses, and my grade-level and building colleagues for help.  Some of my colleagues taught in isolation, regularly closing their doors to everyone but students.  Moving from state to state, it became clear that the personalities and cultures of the schools in which I taught each shared some stereotypes, while still remaining unique from one another. And certainly, the financial disparities that existed between schools and districts within not only regions or individual states in this country, but within each of the towns that I moved to and taught in, have remained. Now I PLC, which in a nutshell, is meant to prevent me and my immediate grade level team from having to pick up a phone, or walk down the hallways, possibly encountering more closed than open doors, as we search for ways to improve our instruction: everyone is "available" to us as we interpret data to assess student need in order to fine-tune and target our instruction.  But I'll tell you something: while "loner" teachers might be sitting in the same room as the rest of their team, that doesn't mean they're contributing any more to the common good than they would have been if they had been allowed to remain behind their closed classroom doors.  And if only one specialist is shared amongst more than one school, immediate help or input isn't available when it's most needed or most convenient.  

I truly believe that educators (and consequently their students) benefit when they purposely grow their PLN, seeking out inspiration and advice from others not only in their building, district, or even state, but from across the nation, multiple professions, and even the world. Twenty-some years ago, I assumed I'd experience a gradual, measured evolution of my pedagogy, using the building blocks of inservices, book studies,  classroom experiences, an over-reliance upon local resources and possibly occasional holiday travel to widen my view.  I never would have imagined that I would be able to learn from and bounce ideas off of teachers and other experts around the world in real-time.  I never imagined hosting a parent-teacher conference with a mother sitting at my reading table and a father sitting in an Army tent overseas.  I am thrilled that I could search for and find content such as the yoga, art and storytime videos that I've compiled into the webmixes written about in this blogpost, and that a platform such as Symbaloo exists to support access to them.  

While I remain a caring, invested, purposeful teacher and learner, the resources that are now available to me (which I credit mostly to advances in technology) make it possible for the walls of my classroom to expand as I cherry-pick from a global range of fellow sharers.  At this point (but who knows what tomorrow's news cycle may bring) there is no reason for me to believe that my pedagogy won't continue to evolve at a rate that matches the needs of today's learners.