I’ve been thinking a lot about beliefs lately. At the start of my Literacy Instruction and Assessment graduate course, I asked my pre-service teachers to write a “This I Believe” piece, reflecting on their beliefs as they begin our course. We will revisit these at the end of the course and see how our thinking has evolved. Doing this in my graduate program several years ago was a meaningful writing experience that I’ve revisited frequently. I think it’s important to continually revisit our beliefs and more importantly, ask ourselves…How does our practice reflect those beliefs?

Every move we make in our classroom speaks to our beliefs. Everything we do sends a message to our students, colleagues and families. And our practice needs to reflect our beliefs. I share two of my beliefs below. I feel like these are ones I hear other educators talking about. Perhaps you can relate, as well.

If we believe children are capable and we promote independence and problem solving, then…do we have a seating chart? Do we require children to sit in a certain way on the rug? (I’m talking to you, criss cross applesauce) Do we require straight, silent lines in the hallway? Do we hand out supplies like scissors, glue, tape, staplers when we think they are needed? Do we stick to a strict pre-determined schedule? Or…do we allow children to choose where and how to sit and move their bodies? Do we teach them how to be respectful of other learners in the school? Do we make supplies accessible all the time, for children to choose when they need them and how to use them? (yes, kindergarteners can use staplers independently) Do we negotiate the daily schedule to meet the needs of our learners that day? Do we honor and respect children and trust that they can make good choices about what they need – and if they aren’t able to, do we coach and help them learn how to make good choices?

If we believe school should be a meaningful and authentic place of learning, then…do we tell children what they have to write about? Do we only allow children to read books that are on “their level”? Do we stick to the standards and curriculum and not allow time for inquiry and child initiated learning experiences? Do we allow pacing guides, standards or other outside forces to drive our teaching? Or…do we honor choice as a key element of everything we do from readers and writers workshop to play time? Do we teach reading and writing from a place that considers what readers and writers REALLY do? Do we use leveled texts as ONE PIECE (for teachers) of our readers workshop, and provide lots of time and choice for children to read self-selected books regardless of the level or genre? Do we provide lots of opportunities for authentic talk because learning is social? Do we set up learning opportunities based on what we see and hear in our current classrooms, following the children’s interests? Do we teach children first, not the curriculum?

I had the pleasure of hearing Vicki Vinton speak at NCTE this past November. It was a powerful talk, and left me with much to think about. She reminded me that Reggio Emilia is the alignment of beliefs and practice. This speaks to me louder than ever.  I’ve been questioning so much of my practice since leaving her session and have been challenging myself to truly look at my beliefs and how they are reflected in my practice. I challenge you to do the same. It can only make us better, more thoughtful educators. And isn’t that what our kids deserve?

What are your beliefs? How does your practice reflect these?

I remember writing my first professional resume. I was advised to write, “stays abreast of professional literature” by a mentor in my education program. I loved that line. And I’ve lived into it for 27 years of my teaching life.

I devour professional books, spend time on Twitter (@bluskyz and @catchingreaders) and Instagram (@bluskyz and @kinderunicorns), follow professional authors on Facebook and other social media, read many blogs, attend as many professional conferences as I can, take online courses, participate in book clubs, write in my journal, blog, seek out evening and weekend workshops locally, and love having dinners or texting sessions with my thoughtful teacher friends to “talk shop”. I love thinking, talking, reading, writing and thinking some more about education.

I’m in a place right now where I am hungry for professional learning. Perhaps more so than usual. I’m questioning and wondering and exploring many different aspects of my teaching.  I feel like I did when I pursued National Board certification and again when I started my master’s program in literacy studies. I felt this way when I left the classroom and became a literacy specialist and again when I became a kindergarten teacher for the first time. I am at a place, again, where I want to learn and grow and evolve into an even more reflective educator. It’s exciting! Right now, my passion lies with learning as much as I can about the Reggio Emilia approach. This is something I’ve been interested in for many years. I’ve taken some online courses and I’ve read extensively about this amazing approach to education. But right now, it makes more sense to me than ever before. I want to pursue learning about this as a teacher researcher and how this approach can make a difference with our most vulnerable students. I’m currently looking into ways to follow this path of interest as a teacher research project into 2018 and beyond. I’m very excited about what might be possible!

If we are passionately curious and pursue new learning opportunities as teachers, we model this for our students. We not only become better at what we do as educators, we impact student learning in powerful ways. So what will you do to continue growing as a learner and an educator in 2018 and beyond? Here are a few suggestions:

Order a new professional book or two or three.. from Stenhouse or Heinemann or Teachers College Press. Regie Routman’s new book, Literacy Essentials: Engagement, Excellence and Equity for All Learners and Practicing Presence by Lisa Lucas are the ones I’m starting in 2018. Get together with a friend or a group and have a book discussion club. I’m doing this with Powerful Book Introductions: Leading with Meaning for Deeper Thinking starting in January at my school.

Plan on attending a conference this year. The National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) conference is the best professional conference I’ve ever attended.  It happens yearly, the week before Thanksgiving. In 2018 it is in Houston. The Whole Language Umbrella, a group within NCTE, has a yearly conference that is smaller. This year it’s in Baltimore in July. In addition to those two major conferences, I’m planning on attending the Annual Progressive Education Summit – Creating Cultures of Thinking in Baltimore in January and the Bank Street 2018 Teaching Kindergarten: Where Did the Garden Go? Democracy, Diversity, Dignity & Dewey Conference in NYC in April. The National Reading Recovery & K-6 Literacy Conference in Colombus, OH in February and the International Literacy Association Conference in Austin, TX in July are two other excellent conferences.  I can’t imagine my teaching life without attending conferences. These amazing learning meccas provide opportunities to connect with other educators, authors and friends, hear different perspectives and voices from outside your district and think deeply about your practice and take new learning, life and inspiration back to your school. While most of us take personal days and pay our own way – it’s worth every penny and any struggles you might have to endure to take the time out of the classroom and travel. Professional conferences are a critical piece of my learning and growing as a teacher.

Put in a proposal to present at a conference. Presenting is such a powerful way to reflect on your practice, to share with others the work you do, and to question and refine your own best teaching. Proposals are due soon for NCTE in Houston and WLU Literacies for All Conference: Sustaining Joy in Our Learning Communities during Challenging Times in Baltimore. I will be submitting proposals and making plans to attend both conferences.

Pursue other local professional development opportunities. The Kennedy Center’s Changing Education Through the Arts (CETA) evening workshops are available for people in the DC, Virginia and Maryland areas. Check out their website and invest in an evening of learning for yourself. This is outstanding professional development for only $20! Many universities have opportunities for professional development classes, Saturday workshops or conferences, as do many museums. Check out your local art or science museum for opportunities for teachers.

Create an online PLN (Professional Learning Network). Twitter has exploded over the past 7 years that I’ve been tweeting. There are so many chats and hashtags to follow, and an abundance of educators who tweet and share, question, reflect, inspire and challenge. I’ve recently become a big fan of Instagram. I love the photos and glimpses into people’s classrooms and teaching lives. I suggest finding someone you learn from (an author, a respected professional in the field, an organization, a friend, etc…) to follow and then see who they follow and follow them. Google areas that interest you and find out the chats that are available. Many of these are archived and you can get a feel for how they go. I’m amazed at how much I can learn by reading a few tweets at lunch or waiting for the copier or in line at the grocery store. I hope to be more involved in Twitter chats this year. There are so many good conversations going on out there!

What other ideas do you have for pursuing your professional growth and development? What is the best professional book you’ve read lately? What chats or favorite Twitter or Instagram accounts can you recommend? Please share! Here’s to a fabulous year of learning and growing in 2018!

We have started organizing our classroom library by favorite authors and favorite topics.

Yesterday, during Readers Workshop, I suggested a book to one of my kindergarteners. He looked at it and then asked me, “what level is it?” I was stunned. Where had he heard about levels? It certainly wasn’t in our classroom. None of my books are leveled and I’ve never mentioned anything about levels in our talks about how readers choose books to read.

I asked him what he meant. He told me, “the level tells you whether you can read the book or not.” Wow. We went on to have a great conversation about how readers (not levels) decide if they can read a book. Readers can choose a book that interests them, an old favorite, a favorite author or character, and they can read the pictures, read the words or remember read.

But I couldn’t get this conversation out of my mind. This five year old has already heard about levels. A system that is meant for teachers to use to guide OUR instruction. (see my previous blog posts about this) Chances are, he heard about this from a well-meaning parent or adult in his community. Which led me to question – do parents need to know reading levels? What does that really tell our parents? It gives them a number or letter to compare their child to others. It gives them a number or letter to talk about with other parents at soccer practice, the playground or gym. It gives them a number or letter that, most likely, doesn’t really mean much more than a letter or a number that ranks their child. And it may give them a letter or number that their child uses to define himself or herself as a reader and that limits what they can read or not read.

Parent – teacher conferences are coming up in the next months. There are so many things we can share with parents to help them understand where their child is in reading. A level doesn’t really help them understand, and it can do harm.

• What if we shared their child’s book box and shared the kinds of books their child enjoys?
• What if we showed our parents texts that their child is reading in guided reading and then compared that text with benchmark texts – showing parents where we are headed?
• What if we shared the goals their child has set to work on as a reader or the goals we have set for their child?
• What if we shared how we are teaching strategies to help their child as a reader?
• What if we shared language that parents can use to help their child talk about books or problem solve when they get to tricky parts?
• What if we shared our class charts that help guide our readers? (I send these home in our weekly poetry notebooks so parents can see the language we are using and so that kids can share what they are learning in Readers Workshop.)
• What if we shared lists of suggested books to check out from the library? (Most librarians aren’t going to be able to help you find a “level L” book – however, they can help you find Mo Willems or Jan Thomas books)

I think this is an important conversation to have in our schools. Are we sharing levels outside of our school? And if so, what is that purpose? I worry that talking about levels with parents serves no other purpose than to further define readers by a level and widen the gap between home and school. Choosing a book by the level is not an authentic way of choosing books in the real world. Libraries don’t level books. Book stores don’t level books. Speaking in terms of levels is a language most parents don’t understand, and it doesn’t serve our purpose of creating strong, lifelong readers who love to read.

How do you communicate with families about where their child is as a reader, and where they are headed? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Update: Here is an interview published on October 12 with Fountas and Pinnell that echoes our thoughts on leveled texts and who the levels are for – from the experts who created this leveling system. Well worth a read!

Why?

As educators, I think this is the question we need to be asking. All. The. Time.

I’m worried. I’m worried that our profession is moving towards the timesavers, the quick fixes, the lessons-in-a-box (or book). I’m worried that we are easily accepting what we are asked to do without questioning, without asking for evidence that it is best practice, without asking whether it is what’s best for our students, without asking “why” we are doing this.  We are asked to follow scripts written by people who oftentimes aren’t even educators, to follow lessons written by well-meaning educators (but educators who have never met our children) without thinking them through, to put children in front of computers to assess their reading and math abilities (and, even worse, to deliver instruction) without asking why in the world we would rely on a computer instead of a trained professional educator to assess and teach our children.

We are busy. So. Very. Busy.  Believe me, I get that. But we can’t stop questioning. We can’t stop thinking.  We can’t stop “being brave enough to outgrow your own best teaching”, (as Lucy Calkins wrote). We can’t look for the quick fix, the timesaver, the intervention-in-a-box. We can’t stop believing that it is highly trained educators that can make the difference. Not for any children, but especially not for our most vulnerable children. Not for the kids that need us the most. These children need us to be thinkers. Questioners. Fighters. They need teachers who are willing to go the extra mile, who aren’t willing to give up, who realize that the fastest assessment or the quickest lesson plan or the packet on TPT  may not be the best. Teachers who view every lesson idea and plan through the lens of the children who are in their class at this moment. Teachers who put children above curriculum, standards or objectives. Teachers who are advocates and not afraid to speak up. Teachers who are willing to put their heads together to figure out what is going on and how to best help these children. Teachers who will never give up. Teachers who realize that we cannot waste time with activities and tasks that are not authentic and meaningful. Teachers who keep learning and thinking and talking and digging deeper into curriculum, assessment and most of all, the children in their rooms right now.

Teachers who collaborate, think and constantly question their practices, and what they are asked to do – are the ones who can, and will make a difference.

Be brave, my teacher friends. Be brave. Ask why. And keep making a difference every day.

When I was a kid I was terrified of bees. Add tornadoes and getting left in a store after closing time and you have my top 3 fears as a child.

Never once was I fearful that I wouldn’t be allowed to return home after visiting my grandparents in their country. Never once was I scared that people would come and take my parents away. Never once was I terrified of getting taunted, bullied, beat up or shot because of my religion. Or culture. Or skin color. Or who I was in love with. Or the clothing I was wearing. Never.

But these are the fears that our children have today. The children I teach,  the children you may teach, your own children, the children in schools throughout our country. And many adults, as well. And these fears have magnified tremendously lately. As a teacher, it’s my  job to acknowledge what my students are feeling, listen to them, talk with them, comfort them and provide a safe space for them to feel loved and accepted. I can’t imagine doing anything less.

But it’s also my job to empower my students. Yes, they are five and six years old. Are we talking about immigration laws, our government system, electoral votes and checks and balances in our classroom? No. In my kindergarten class we are talking about empathy, kindness, collaboration and being a good person. I am teaching harder than ever about how important it is to be accepting, to have empathy and to be kind. I am teaching that it’s never okay to remain silent when you feel strongly about something. I am teaching the importance of making your voice heard. And the importance of listening to others’ voices.

As I tend to do, I’ve reached for books over the past month as my comfort and my light. My professional mentors reminded me of what’s important, what’s necessary and what I must do as a teacher. My teaching must go beyond one to one match, directionality and making connections. Way beyond.

My children’s authors, once again, gave us those anchors in the classroom to come together as a community, to laugh, to cry, to learn about feelings, to be together and to think about how we are as people in the world. Mo Willems reminded us about the importance of empathy with  Leonardo, the Terrible Monster. We read Peaceful Piggies and learned what we can do when we are feeling sad, angry or frustrated. Todd Parr’s The Peace Book, Mem Fox’s Whoever You Are, Kathryn Otoshi’s One and Elephant and Piggie connected us, grounded us and reminded us of what is important. We read and reread Bret Baumgarten and Kathryn Otoshi’s Beautiful Hands and created a mural to share our class name, Team Love, and vision of Kindergarten Teamwork.

As I regroup over winter break and begin to think about my teaching in January, this is what will continue to guide me – children’s books and authors who serve as mirrors and windows for my kids and our classroom, as well as responsive teaching to what I see and hear every day in the classroom. Yes, the curriculum guides, pacing guides and standards are important, but I feel a much more urgent need to teach empathy, compassion, flexibility, perseverance and simply – how to be a good person.

Because the world needs good people.

Now more than ever.

I want my children to understand the world, but not just because the world is fascinating and the human mind is curious. I want them to understand it so that they will be positioned to make it a better place.

If you are looking for a professional book to read this summer, read on. I recently finished a new one from Stenhouse called Who’s Doing the Work: How to Say Less So Readers Can Do More by Burkins and Yaris. There were many wonderful parts of the text that reiterated some of my firm beliefs about teaching reading. I’ll list some in this post and, hopefully, ignite your interest.

I totally agree with the basic premise that as teachers we have to monitor ourselves so that we do not take on work that the students are capable of doing themselves. The authors use the four instructional contexts of reading aloud, shared reading, guided reading, and independent reading to show us how to let students take more control of their developing reading processing systems. Burkins and Yaris also make a strong case against the ‘leveling frenzy’ saying that some teachers are “blinded by levels,” not being able to see past levels to what the child can actually do as a reader.

In chapter 2, the authors emphasis the benefits of reading aloud to children calling the read aloud time a “commercial for reading.” We should be setting kids up to want to be readers. Several classroom examples are given which show how students can participate in negotiating the meaning of the text.

Chapter 3 emphasizes the importance of shared reading with students. I was reminded of something Regie Routman always says — that she does most of her teaching through Shared Reading experiences, where the students can all see the text. Yaris and Burkins expand the meaning of shared reading beyond what some teachers may think of as only K-2 teachers reading Big Books and poems together with their students. They feel that if we did more shared reading experiences in grades 2-5, students would be more equipped with strategies and behaviors to use during guided reading when each child is in the role of the reader. “Shared reading allows students to experience reading a more difficult text in a supportive, meaningful context.” (p. 65.)

In the guided reading chapter, the authors remind us that the teacher must step back and let the students do the work as they problem solve words and make meaning of texts. I love that they call guided reading “independent reading’s dress rehearsal.” During these  small group sessions, the teacher can see how students “apply all of their knowledge about how to read” while she is still there to intervene or support when necessary. Just as Terry Thompson says in his book on scaffolding, these authors remind us to “resist the urge to jump in and prompt heavily as soon as students have difficulty.”(p. 93.) Kids should feel safe enough in guided reading to take the time to try different strategies to resolve problems.

One major point of the whole book is that we should always be teaching towards the end goal of developing lifelong readers who CAN and DO read for pleasure and for information.  The independent reading time is when students have plenty of class time to read books of their own choosing, books that match their interests and their abilities, without being restricted by a level number or letter. “If teachers micromanage independent reading time, they limit students agency and engagement and, consequently, limit the amount of work students do.” (p. 111).

Early in the book (p. 28), the authors suggest we reflect on what we, the readers of this text, agree with and what we disagree with. To me that means that they encourage professional discussion on various topics, so I feel OK in mentioning two points that I question (‘disagree” being too strong a word).

1. There is recurring mention throughout the text that ‘book introductions involve the teacher doing too much for the students.’  I tend to agree with Clay who says that students are “entitled to a book introduction.” I support the use of book intros (when done correctly) especially for students reading at beginning primary levels, K-2.  I agree with these authors who worry that some teachers have misunderstood the concept of a book introduction and prime the students with too much information or pre-teach words. I also agree that a good book intro is NOT a page-by-page book walk. Katie and I present our views of book intros on pages 78-80 and 127-130 in Catching Readers Before They Fall.  I’d also like to suggest that teachers look for a new book coming from Stenhouse within the next year on Book Introductions (no title yet) by authors Fay, Whaley, and Moritz.  I think that book will help clarify any questions teachers may have.
2. My other concern relates to the way that word solving is described in this text.  Though the authors mention Clay and her three sources of information: meaning, structure, and visual information – they decide to combine two of those and only explain the Meaning and the Print aspects.  I find this a bit misleading for teachers, however, I can understand that they were trying to simplify it for their readers.  Again, the new book coming soon from Stenhouse will address the structural source of information.

I hope my last two points don’t discourage anyone from reading this book because it is a valuable text.  Rather, I included them so that all teachers will read with a reflective stance. We should always think and reflect on what we read in any professional text.

I’ve been spending some time going through all my documents that I have saved on my computer. There comes a time when you have to just trash some things in order to make room for new stuff. What surprised me were how many things I came across that made me want to share an idea. I just couldn’t bring myself to press that delete button until I wrote the thoughts somewhere else. I decided that each time I came across something of value, I’d blog about it so that I, and my readers, could reflect on it one more time before I press that button. Today’s idea is from a page where I had taken notes on an article I read.

In an article by Shari Frost in Choice Literacy a while back, Shari wrote about how distressed she was by the fact that many primary teachers were using their read aloud books for the purpose of strategy teaching and not just for the pleasure of enjoying a good story. Shari paraphrased another author (Patricia Cooper’s Language Arts article) who felt the same way. I found the quote valuable enough to copy down and save.

“Cooper believes that the ‘untaught story’ plays an important role in the literacy development of children. It supports the development of their imagination, increases their vocabulary, helps them develop a sense of story, builds the foundation for critical thinking, and teaches children to love books. These benefits can be jeopardized if every read aloud is attached to a comprehension lesson.”

Take a moment to ask yourself:

1. How often do I use a picture book just for sheer enjoyment?
2. Am I overusing what I know about strategy teaching by always thinking that my read aloud book has to have a strategy lesson attached?
3. What messages am I sending to children about why we read books?
4. Am I doing all I can to develop a love of books and stories with my students?
5. Can I name three books that my students love to hear again and again just because they love them so much?

Teachers shouldn’t have to defend WHY they are reading aloud great books to their students. We all know the benefits, don’t we?