Sweet readers

Day 19 of 31 at TWT!

 Book in hand, Sweetie slides onto the couch, declaratively reading the title aloud. Rainbow Girl scrambles to clamber up beside her, slip-pull-flail-climbing her way to her big sister's side as Sis opens the book and starts to read. 

How amazing. She reads confidently, in mostly fluent phrases, occasionally problem-solving a particularly tricky word or phrase. Incredible. First, we read to her. Then she "read" memorized books to us, and to Rainbow when she was born. Now here she sits, truly reading real books to her little sister. 

As Sweetie reads, Rainbow sidles closer, leaning her small shoulder against Sis. At times, she leans forward, pointing and wiggling a little finger, exclaiming "Who's that?!", patting something on a picture, or reaching out a dainty hand to help turn the page. 

Pages and pages go by, and Rainbow nestles even farther into Sis, starting to twirl a section of hair near her forehead (her ultimate signal of sleepiness and relaxation). 

See the hair twirling? 

She reaches her other arm around Sis, who grins and hugs her back as she keeps reading.

<3 <3 <3!

There's just nothing better than these sweet sisters curled up together with a book... especially now that one can truly read to the other!

From Indian Two Feet to Fry Bread

Tuesdays at TWT!

When I was a scrawny first-grader with a long blonde braid that swung back and forth across my back as I skipped down the hallway, I checked out an Indian Two Feet (cringe, right?!) book from my school library. For some reason, I fell in love with Indian Two Feet. I checked out every book in the series. I read them again and again. I made my two best friends play Indians with me at recess in a clover patch that we decided was our tipi. I always pretended to be Indian Two Feet (I used to marvel at my oldest daughter's bossiness, but looking back at my childhood play, nearly everything was my idea, and I always played the main parts), while my poor friends played the parts of Indian One Foot and Indian Three Feet (face palm). (Apparently we used up all our creativity imagining that clover patch was a tipi...)  

I couldn't tell you anything about what happened in those books now, although the name was obviously enough to make me terrified about what I'd find when I Googled them. (I found some read-aloud videos of one, and while the story isn't actually as problematic as I'd feared, the original illustrations are atrociously stereotypical, and not much better in a newer version.) But for some reason, my heart and mind were completely smitten with the idea of American Indians after I read those books. (It's entirely possible that these books may have been one of my first encounters with the fact that Native Americans even existed, and I know I wasn't alone.)

As soon as I finished all the Indian Two Feet books in our school library, I wanted to read every book about American Indians I could get my hands on! Fortunately, I was grade levels ahead in reading, with a mom who was passionate about reading, so when I wanted to read about something, I had more than the typical access to materials. I quickly moved on from Indian Two Feet (thank goodness) to devour a wide array of historical fiction, collections of traditional stories, biographies, and informational non-fiction. I researched Tecumseh for my 3rd grade biography assignment and ended up presenting my project in front of the whole school. I'm probably the only kid who ever read Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee (~ 500 pages) and A Sorrow In Our Heart (~ 800 pages) in their entirety before even becoming a teenager. (Sadly, I now recognize that even so much of that wide reading was problematic, mis-informed, embellished, deficit-minded, or too anchored in the past.)

Luckily, my parents fostered my desire to learn in more ways than just with books. We attended powwows where I got to ask questions, hear traditional music, taste delicious foods, view beautiful artwork, and even participate in dances. (Powwow culture is VERY welcoming to visitors and a great way to learn about traditions! It's not weird if you aren't tribally enrolled; public powwows welcome everyone and the people are happy to share with you!) We visited countless museums, historic sites, and cultural centers. We attended every educational program we could find. I learned and learned, and slowly, the stereotypes so easily acquired gave way to a more accurate understanding of various tribes, their unique histories and cultural traditions, and some awareness of modern tribal life. More accurate books were published, and I started learning to discern reliable sources and problematic portrayals. 

When I got a middle school assignment to write to a famous author, I wrote to Joseph Bruchac, an Abenaki author who sent me back a beautiful art print from one of his books. My 35 page senior thesis for AP Lit (I lost a few points for going over the recommended guidelines of 15-20 pages... but I was so excited!) explored themes and symbols of modern American Indian identity in works such as Ceremony and House Made of Dawn. My dad signed me up as a founding member of the National Museum of the American Indian when it opened, and I've learned so much from our trips there and the articles in the member magazine. 

Now, I'm so thankful to be able to share incredible books like Cradle Me and Fry Bread with my daughters and my students; books that show the beauty and resilience of modern American Indians with tribal specificity and cultural accuracy, and a sense that these people are still here. I'm thankful for tribally enrolled citizens who educate on social media and high-quality internet resources that make it possible to access information (and ensure its accuracy) more easily. From home this past year, I've learned about various tribal languages and history from amazing tribally enrolled members across the country through incredible virtual museum and library events.

And the more I learn, I realize there's just so much more to learn. My reading list and my Twitter feed grow. 

I also realize how uncommon this learning is for so many Americans. What would I know about American Indians if I hadn't done my best to learn about them for my whole life? What do most Americans know? Some stereotypes brought on by problematic childhood books. Great big holes in history classes, with a few quick sidebar notes that usually serve to further stereotypes. The impression that American Indians lived a long time ago, and/or in the West. Racist mascots and catchphrases that are so engrained in popular culture that it's easy to think they're ok, just like those old books. Even some recently published books (that you'd hope would be high quality) turn out to be problematic. 

When I Googled Indian Two Feet (and watched the read-alouds to see what it's really like), I was dismayed to find so many positive reviews on both Amazon and Goodreads. Too many reviews mentioned being excited to find a favorite childhood book to share with children, the beauty (?!) of the illustrations, and even using it to teach kids about American Indians (!!!!). 

We have to get this right. We, on this stolen land, need to to filter out the stereotypes, inaccuracies, romanticizations, and omissions and find the real stories of the people who were here long before us, and the people who are still here now. We can do better, especially with all that is available to us in this moment. We must do better.

I'll miss being able to share so many of my favorite childhood books with my girls, but I'm more grateful that they'll have access to books that affirm, honor, and accurately portray these important cultures. Please join us. 

Rainbow Girl enjoying the back pages of Cradle Me. 
She loves to point to each cradleboard and say either the name of the tribe or what the baby is doing (from the earlier text of the book).

The girl and her mama

Tuesdays at TWT!

 "Can we read girl and her mama?" Rainbow places a chubby little hand on my knee and gazes up expectantly, locking her blue eyes onto mine as if she's trying to channel maximum cuteness.

"Ummm, which one?" There are way too many books that fit this description.

"Girl and her mama! It's new! It's a present..."

"Ummm..." New? Is there a story about a girl and her mom in one of the most recent issues of one of their Spanish magazines? I want to figure out what book she wants, but I can't come up with one...

"The name is a song?" She crinkles her eyes.

"OH! Yes! Your Name is a Song! I got that for Sis for her birthday! You want to read Your Name is a Song?" I got that for your sister because her name is beautiful and often mispronounced, but sure, of course!

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" she squeals in increasingly high registers as she hop-gallops in place in excitement. I pull her onto my lap and she runs her tiny fingers across the front cover. "There's the girl! And mama!" She spins halfway around to gaze up at me again with that crinkly smile. "Like Mama and [her name]!"

"That's right, honey bun, just like Mama and you." I give her a squeeze and kiss her hair.

She loves the cover & all the illustrations! <3

Settling back against me in her floppy reading position, she narrates the wordless first pages herself. "There's the kids, playing. There's the girl. She's not playing." Then she happily points out whenever the mom and girl are together, little finger shooting out in delight. "There's the girl! There's the mama!"

When the names come, she tries out the first few, grinning and wiggling as if savoring them in her mouth as we tap our feet to their rhythm together. "Olumide! Kotone!" She smiles when I pat her chest and tries out "Ahlam", then giggles when I poke her in the belly for Ngozi. 

The singing part gets her cackling and squealing as we sing "Miizzz Annnnnndersonnnnnnn," Bawawawab!", and "Kooooraaaaa Jalimuuuuuso" together. 

After we read it, she demands to see the video of the author pronouncing the names, which we'd watched after the first time we read it. "Hear the names, on Mommy's phone?" She tries out a few more names as we listen, and often interrupts to ask, "The girl? the girl?" When Kora Jalimuso comes, I point it out and rewind so we can hear it again.

That night, as she talks herself to sleep in her crib, I can hear her trying out names from around the world. "Bilqisss! Ju-long!"

And a couple mornings later, when I can't quite figure out what she's saying in a singsong voice in the monitor, I'm astonished when I realize that she's singing, "Koooraaa Jalimuuso" to herself. 

Nearly every day since, she's toddled over at some point to ask again. "Can we read... the name is a song?! It have the girl and her mama!"

And every time we read it, she interacts with it in nearly the same way: loving the pictures of the girl and her mom and connecting them to us. (One day, she even points out to me that the girl and her mama have matching flowers on their bags!) Trying out the new sounds in her mouth. Dancing and wiggling, smiling and giggling. Delighting in the rhythm, the musicality, the pride, the joy, and the beauty of kids of different colors and names with different sounds. 

Definitely music to the ears of this mama and her girl. 

Kora Jalimuso's name song moment!
(the explanation for this name in the back matter just takes it up another level!)

Thank you, Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow, for such a beautiful story honoring and lifting up the children (like my students and Rainbow's big Sis) who are tired of their names getting "stuck" in others' mouths. Thank you, Luisa Uribe, for bringing so much beauty into the illustrations, from the vibrant body language to the matching flowers my 2yo noticed before me, the hair details, and the whispered thread of"salaams" stretching between the girl and her mama's mouths before school. I'm grateful to see my girls delighting in a book that is so rich in so many ways. 

Enjoy the wow!

Day 4 of 31 at TWT!

"Can I take this other books to Daddy's den?" Rainbow Girl is clutching a pile of the little paper books Sis colored at the beginning of remote kindergarten in her tiny hands. 

He doesn't sound like he's on a call right now. "Sure!" I'm amazed at how she's progressed from simple words a year ago to the giant, mostly correct sentences she uses now. 

She toddles off in her wiggly way, floppy paper book pages trying to spill out of her arms. The joyful thumps of her little feet fill the house as she rounds the corner and plunks herself down at Husband's feet as he navigates emails and helpdesk tickets from multiple monitors. 

 

Opening her mouth much wider than necessary, she takes an exaggerated breath, holds the book out with the front cover up, and declares, "This is...     the green book" in the overly serious, imperial tone she uses while "reading" something. Her blue eyes widen as her dainty fingers carefully find the bottom corner, grasp the pages, and open the book, holding it with outstretched arms for a minute before pulling it back to a more natural reading position. Her brow furrows as she contemplates the picture in the middle of the page. "The...     apple...    is green!"

She plops the paper book down on her lap with an overly dramatic amount of force. Those still-babyish fingers fiddle with the corner of the page again and successfully turn to the next page. Those adorable eyes pop wide open again and the stately tone continues, "The... turtle is green." She switches back to her regular, sweet, high-pitched voice and her face scrunches into her biggest smile, "For Daddy!" (Turtles are his favorite animal!) After briefly glancing at me to show her pride at remembering that special fact, she whips her head back to the book, flips another page, and returns to her dignified reading voice. "The fwrog is green!"

With each new page, she carefully peers at the picture, then touches the words at the bottom with a chubby finger as she "reads" in that much-too-serious-for-a-two-year-old declarative tone. "The... wleaf is... green." Fiddle-grasp-flip. "The alligator! is guh-REEN!" Another switch back to her regular baby-voice for some more commentary: "I don't like alligators! They're sharp!" 

Upon finishing that book, she unceremoniously tosses it aside and grabs another from the tilting pile on her lap. "Now the ORANGE one!" More distinguished reading-tone with occasional interjections of regular sweet-voice, more painstaking page-flipping, more running her chubby pointer finger across the words.

I just stand at the door of the den and take it in, giggling with a full heart. Two years ago, she was just a little snuggle-bundle transitioning from preemie clothes to the smallest newborn clothes. As one of our favorite Daniel Tiger songs says, it's time to enjoy the WOW. <3

Reflecting and reaching

Monday.

What did you just think of when you heard that word? Sluggishness? Reluctance? Trying to shake yourself out of a fog? Yeah, me too. Until I get to class.

Mondays in my classes, more than any other day, run like a well-oiled machine. Smooth, simple, with gears turning purposefully. Going somewhere.

Every Monday, our warm-up is the "idiom of the week". Idioms are everywhere (Seriously. Have you noticed? Tomorrow, pay attention to all the idiomatic phrases you hear and read, and then imagine not having grown up with them!), they're hard to figure out if you don't just know them, and they can be pretty silly and fun! (Today's was "to sling mud", and an astute student pointed out that it's a lot like "throwing shade" -- they might not know traditional idioms, but ELLs sure don't struggle to pick up slang!) It's a light, non-threatening way to start the week... and I always smile to see one of our past idioms find its way into a student's writing months later!

Every Monday, we also check in about our academic goals. For the past several years, we've used the WOOP framework to set a goal that we want to work on for about a month. Teaching students to proactively realize what obstacles are standing in their way and plan how to overcome those obstacles has been incredibly powerful. Now that we're also using R-factor concepts, the language of default actions vs. disciplined actions has fit in perfectly with this structure.

This student's current goal is about reading, but it just has to be some academic skill. We fill out the top half when setting a new goal, then one row on the bottom every Monday to check in over the next month.

I used to have students share their progress with a partner, but now that I've shifted my class to a "squad" unit format (posts on that coming soon, I promise!), they share with their whole squads, and the conversations are much more powerful. These check-ins only take a few minutes, but their impact is incredible. Students are leaning forward, nodding, reflecting, and encouraging each other as they honestly share about why they are struggling to meet their goals or how they were successful.

And every Monday, we time ourselves reading for exactly 15 minutes, noting our starting and ending page numbers. When the timer goes off, we enter those pages into our reading goals spreadsheets (template 1 / template 2) to set our page goals for the week (based on Penny Kittle's idea from Book Love) and do a little thinking about our reading. I do my own as a model, and it's fascinating to see how my reading speed changes between and even within books and how much more purposeful I am about my reading when I know I have a specific goal.

thinking boxes

page goal (light green & yellow boxes calculate automatically)

Fingers fly on clicking keys and flip gently through book pages in a settled, nearly-silent hum: purposeful, thoughtful, spinning the foundation for a new week of reading. I could sneak out of the classroom and I'm pretty sure almost everyone would just keep typing. On Thursday, we'll check back in to see what progress we've made, but for now, the invitation to push ourselves forward as readers stands open.

Too much routine can be boring, but on Mondays, our routines anchor us and drive us, using reflection, goals, and community to focus on what matters most: reaching toward our best selves, one week at a time.

Raising readers

Day 30 of 31 at TWT!

"I don't like reading because in my country [UAE] baby don't like to read, and when they grow bigger they still don't like." Sadly, I'm not even surprised when I get to this part of A's reflection letter.

The first time one of my Middle Eastern students told me in a reading conference that he had never read a book before, I almost fell out of my chair. Never read a book?! How could someone get to high school having never read a book?! I knew reading was a less common pastime in some other countries than it is here, but...?! No wonder it was such a struggle to help these kids find "just right" books in English -- they'd never even done that in Arabic!

But after several years of getting that exact response nearly every time I conference with another new student from the Middle East, I've come to expect it. "In my country, I was weird because I read books," admitted J, the one Iraqi student who came to me already identifying as a reader. "I love being here because there are so many books, and other people read! I'm not weird for reading stories here."

Turning kids into readers is one of the absolute best parts of my job, but even many high schoolers who "hate" reading have chosen books before, read books before, and often even have fond memories of a time in their childhoods, long ago, when they did enjoy reading. Winning back those reluctant readers is a much different task than starting from absolute scratch with kids who have no concept of what's it's like to choose a book and no cultural frame of reference for the idea that reading is something that people do for fun. While I'm used to this by now, hearing students identify and articulate that cultural norm still jars me.

A.'s insightful reflection illustrates how crucial it is to grow readers from the moment they are born. I don't know if he would have noticed the cultural difference anyway, like J, or if all the pictures I show of my baby reveling in her books helped him realize and articulate it. Either way, it's such a powerful statement:
"I don't like reading because in my country baby don't like to read..."

Not in my country, thank goodness. And definitely not in my house!

Even the Easter Bunny knows...

... Little Sweetie is already a reader!

"Look, Mommy!"

Raising readers is important, magical work, whether they're ten months old or in tenth grade. So grateful that I get to share the joy of reading with one very special kid who wiggles with glee at the sight of a book... but just as thankful that I also get to spread it to so many others who have either lost that delight or never even knew it at all.

Born a reader

Day 20 of 31 at TWT!

"... a quiet activity, like reading a book."
"Don't worry if your baby does not pay much attention to the book..."
"You don't have to finish the book..."

I snort every time I read an article mentioning reading to babies. Obviously, these people have never met a baby like Little Sweetie. Quiet? Calm? Losing attention? Not this baby!

Not quite a month old, and flailing like crazy!

Ever since my mom set our old copy of Wet Willy's Water Fun beside her on a blanket when she was about a month old, this one has LOVED books.

She swipes and flails. She pats and whacks. She squeals, coos, giggles, and squawks!

Yeah, we're readers in this family!

"Ooooh!"

Daddy! This book is awesome!!!

Whoa, I can open this!

And now that she's a big girl, she can do even more.

She grabs and holds the book. She opens and closes it. She helps turn the pages. She leans forward and rocks with anticipation.

She flips the book back and forth, studying how the front and back cover are different.

Her curious fingers search for textures and flaps. She claps, points, and babbles.

When we get to the end, she wants to explore more, turning back to find her favorite pages and practicing turning them.

She even picks up books and "reads" them independently as she plays on her turtle mat or in her playpen.

I can read by myself now, you guys!

This is more than a treasured time to snuggle. This is not just her another part of her general desire to investigate everything. This is a love of books. This is the beginning of a reading life.

This one was born a reader.

For their whole lives

Tuesdays at Two Writing Teachers!

"I'm trying not to cry..." she kept repeating, snapping pictures of my classroom on the last day before break. Her last day of school in America. "I love this room." 

"Well, I try really hard to make it a happy, comfortable place for my students..."

"I know! Your class taught me that I could enjoy reading, that I could lose myself inside a book. One For the Murphys was the first time I ever felt like I was inside a story, like the people were real. When we finished it, I was like... but where are the Murphys?! That's why I kept accidentally calling you Mrs. Murphy... They seemed so real!" She giggled.

"That's one of my favorite things about a great story -- when the characters become so real to you that they become part of your life! And wasn't it fun to share that story together?" Scenes from this year's Global Read Aloud flashed through my mind: Shoulders tilted forward, faces hanging on every word. Intense scribbling in silence. Animated discussions. Wide-eyed wonder at receiving blog comments from Lynda Mullaly Hunt herself. Watery eyes and lots of blinking... even from tough teenage boys who don't think they're readers. Once again, magic.

"I've been reading at home every day now, and my dad is so happy. That's something I'll have for my whole life! Even though I have to leave your class, now I know I can enjoy reading."

It was one of those rare moments teachers dream of but rarely get: a reminder that yes, it's all worth it. The long hours and crazy mandates and the strain of having to carefully consider one million different things at the same time, without every being able to turn our brains off. It's all worth it for the chance to make a difference in so many precious lives. 

I hope she's right, that she'll always carry this spark with her. That she won't lose it in the midst of moving back to India and school and life. Or if she does, that something will remind her of the Murphys someday and she'll find it again. 

Because that's what I want for all of my kids: the ones who've become avid readers and the ones who are still looking around the room, getting a tissue, and watching the clock. The ones who remember loving reading when they were little kids and the ones who'd never read a book before they came into my class (either because they'd fake-read their way through years of bouncing around schools, because nobody reads for fun in the country they came from, or because they were busy just trying to survive violence and misery). 

I want them all to discover the magic and power of reading. I want them to know that they can find their life or escape from it in a book. I want them to be blown away by new ideas and aware of important issues. I want them to realize, like our favorite character Carley, that they are worth something and they can build lives of meaning and purpose.

And I want them to carry those SPARKS for their whole lives.

Love those kids

Tuesdays at Two Writing Teachers!

Before all the last-day hugs and photos, my students spent several weeks analyzing, reflecting on, and celebrating their learning this year. (More posts are brewing!)

Reading through their reflections, I nodded and smiled as my heart grew so full it seemed ready to leap from my body and fly onto their pages. So many kids now hold different identities, and they know it! So many kids became readers who connect to books and writers who write for real purposes and audiences. So many kids now inhabit a world where words have real power, and they are confident of their ability to participate in that world. I hope they always hold onto that.

I had so many ideas today of ways to reflect on my own year, but none of them seemed quite right. All of a sudden, Sharon Creech's Love that Dog popped into my head, and I knew that was it! I love those kids. I scrambled to find Walter Dean Myers' original poem, "Love that Boy"... and this is where it took me:

Love those kids
like a daisy loves the sun
I said, love those kids
like a daisy loves the sun
Love to call them in the morning,
"It's a great day, everyone!"

They curl in chairs
and dive into books.
I said, they curl in chairs
and dive into books.
They know that words can carry them
as close or far as they dream of.

They write their lives,
making words dance and sing.
I said, they write their lives,
making words dance and sing.
They recognize the power
their very own stories bring.

They walk with strength and courage,
reaching out and standing tall.
I said, they walk with strength and courage,
reaching out and standing tall.
They'll find their places in this world
with their words to keep them strong.

Right out of their mouths

with Ruth Ayres!

"How do I know who wrote this post?" A. calls me over in the middle of ELL Resource, gesturing at his phone.

"It should say whose blog it is at the top... Scroll up... See, this is E.'s blog."

"No. Way." He glances over his shoulder at E., who's sitting at a computer but has now turned around upon hearing her name. "She was in my English class last year and she HATED reading!!! Now she loves it!" (They are not in the same English class this year, so he hasn't witnessed her daily excitement about reading growing like I have.)

Behind him, she giggles, nodding.

"It must be because she had you as a teacher!" he declares. Before I can sputter "thank you," he continues. "Because you encourage us so much!" 

I grin. Every time he has to find a new book, A. still insists that he can't find one and he doesn't like reading... but after he flips through a stack of books I've picked out just for him, he always finds one that leaves him spitting constant updates on the plot or characters whenever he walks into my room. He won't declare himself a reader yet, but he's working his way up the road.

I'm still digesting what he said when E. looks up at me with sparkling eyes and blurts out, "You work miracles with reading!!!"

I wish I could scoop the words right out of their mouths and hold onto them, freeze this moment and play it back forever: the pure delight on her face, the way he looks as if he's standing at the open door to a secret club.

"Aw, thanks guys... That's part of why I became a teacher."

My heart is so light I might fly right up into the square ceiling tiles.

Earlier this week I submitted my data for the "student growth" part of my evaluation: two pages of numbers on a spreadsheet. How do I submit this moment?

Celebrating Spring!

with Ruth Ayres!

22 of 31 at Two Writing Teachers!

What a week to celebrate! Although it was heavy with end-of-the-quarter exhaustion, this week was also sprinkled with so many sweet moments to savor!

• Incredible culminating lessons (and such a thoughtful present!) from my graduate student observer! I'll miss our conversations, her enthusiasm, and her kindness with my students. (They all said she will be a good teacher!)
• All my wonderful students... like D., who greeted me one afternoon by asking, "Are we going to do something fun today? Like we do every day?!" with a smile sweeter than any you'd ever imagine a teenage boy could wear...
• ... and S., who shyly handed me a cold plastic container one morning: "Mi mamá hizo pozole y tostadas para Ud." 

  

  ¡Delicioso!

• Adorable thank-you notes from students for helping them participate in our school's multicultural event. I was astounded when A. delivered his note before school, and then these others appeared on my desk later that day: 

  

  Apparently my colleague must have suggested they make them... so cute!

• Ravenous readers who scoured my shelves for Spring Break books! My ears never got tired of hearing eager voices call out "I need a new book for Spring Break!" Some students took home two or three books... are these really the kids who hated reading when they came into my classroom?
• Superb student slicers who are taking risks, applying ideas from mini-lessons, and living writerly lives this month. They are just incredible!
• A smartphone! (That's right, we still had flip phones until yesterday.) Husband says we've joined the 21st century... and because of Ting, we could do it without compromising our budgeting principles. 
• SPRING BREAK and spring weather! (What more do I have to say?)

A spark to celebrate

at Ruth Ayres Writes!

8 of 31 at Two Writing Teachers!

One of things I love about the March Challenge is that it makes me make time for writing. I get to do all the writing that I always mean to do, but somehow never get around to. (Of course, every year I vow that when March is over, I'll continue writing more often... and then I don't!) Anyway, the Celebrate posts on Saturdays keep calling to me, but I haven't participated yet. Since I have to write today anyway, it's the perfect chance to join the celebration!

This week was the kind of week that leaves me collapsed in exhaustion, but with a proud smile. Since I've already celebrated most of those moments in other slices, I'll focus on a different victory today.

This week, a low-intermediate student who's lived in short comics and non-fiction readers all year picked up One for the Murphys from my classroom's "We recommend" bookshelf during reading time.

Before I moved into this room, this book display thingy held textbooks. Ugh. Now my students' best-loved books (that aren't in someone's hands at the moment) live on the top 3 shelves. On my shelf, I rotate themed collections of books that I want to introduce to students. I took this picture in mid-January (see, I told you I catch up in March!) so my shelf was related to Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. 

Later, when I asked him what he thought, his face stretched into a wide smile and his eyes glittered. "It's so good! I thought it would be hard, but I can understand it!"

Not only has he found a magical book (it never stays on the shelf for very long in my room!), he's observed a noticeable improvement in his English. What a moment of pride for a student who has been in America for less than a year!

Even better, I know this book could be the SPARK that turns him into a reader. Now that's something to celebrate!

Gifts from heart to heart

at Two Writing Teachers!

 You almost didn't get to read this today, because I almost didn't write.

After school today, I was plodding to the mailroom with too many thoughts zipping through my brain. Lessons. Exams. Planning PD. Upcoming units. Christmas gifts. Christmas cards. Thank-you notes. Slicing. Ugh, slicing. I should just skip it today. I'm exhausted.

When I rounded the corner, I could see two bulging interoffice mail envelopes jammed into my mailbox. Oh boy, maybe a present from my mom? I grabbed an envelope and rushed to unravel the string. Hmm, feels like books though. What on earth???

Three books and a note, all from my new colleague and friend, Stella!

She called me a "fellow writer". Stella, who writes for Choice Literacy, called me a writer. Even now, when I know I'm a writer, there's such power in that name. The name "writer" says "I believe in you. I want to know your story. I know you have something special to say to the world, and I want to hear it."

Just two words, but they reverberated through my head. Fellow writer. From exhausted to inspired.

She thought of me when she was at NCTE! She got books for me! One's an ARC. I've never had an ARC of anything before! (I can't wait to read it before the rest of the world can!)

WOW!

Maybe she just grabbed a whole bunch of books and then decided to send some to various ELL teachers around the district...

Except

Just for me!!!

She really thought of me. Right there, in the midst of NCTE. Stella, the teacher-leader. Stella, who navigates two languages and cultures with such strength and grace. Stella, who has really only talked to me in person a few times. Stella, who was such an exciting addition to our district this year.

Books are gifts from heart to heart. They draw us together: We are the same, you and I. We are readers. We lose ourselves and find ourselves in stories.

Magic

at Two Writing Teachers!

This fall, something has been different in my classroom.  Yes, the room is completely mine this year, and I gave it a massive makeover.  Sure, I have some new students mixed in with some of my students from last year.  Certainly, I'm more confident in my teaching and more comfortable in the building this year.  But there's something else...

Something buzzing.  Something humming.  Sparks.  Magic.  DELIGHT.

It started with the postcards.  (By the way, today I got a letter in my school mailbox from a would-have-been incoming freshman who ended up withdrawing before school ever started. I never even met her, but she loved the postcard so much that she wrote me at school to say that she's sorry she can't be in my class!)

Then I carefully cultivated our writing community, and the StoryBox helped it blossom.

In the midst of pre-assessments, meetings, and plans, myriad little moments with students sparkled with joy and reminded me that, while I'm exhausted, it's worth it.

Last week, the sparks came together into a bright shower of fireworks as we began the Global Read-Aloud.  This is the first time I've read a novel aloud, and I just love the experience of talking and thinking through a story together, day after day.  I love the incredible discussions that Sharon Draper's Out of My Mind is generating.

I love wondering and predicting and finding more information together.  I love noticing great words and phrases as we read.  I love composing tweets as a class as we connect to the larger shared experience of the GRA.

Most of all, I love how students walk into my classroom already chattering about the story.

 "Could you believe how mean Dr. Hugely was? What a jerk!"

"There's a girl kind of like Melody in my math class!"

"I can't believe how people treat Melody just because her body doesn't work right!"

I love that before the bell rings at the beginning of class, they grab their notebooks & vocabulary sheets and scurry to the open area on the floor... whether or not the whiteboard actually says read-aloud is first!  (And I love that they whine if it's not!)

I love that when someone has been absent, I don't have to ask students to fill her in... because they're already re-capping what happened!  "D, you missed the funniest part yesterday!  Melody's mom went crazy!"

Last Thursday, I hadn't planned to read aloud because students buddy-read an article about cerebral palsy that another class had tweeted out.  I wanted to reserve the rest of class for writing our StoryBox pieces.  However, after reading and discussing the article with their partners, my 6th period students started begging to still read aloud!  

"I was so excited to come to class today to read this book," one student whined. 

"Me too!  I couldn't wait to come to this class!" another interjected.

"Don't you want to keep working on your writing for the StoryBox?"  Ever since we started the StoryBox Project, they've been begging to write every day, so I couldn't believe they wanted to skip writing to read together, especially when they just spent the first part of class reading an article!  However, the begging and whining was pretty priceless, so I put it up for a vote.  Every single hand went up in favor of reading more of the story together!  Their eyes twinkled as they looked around the room and looked at me.  How could I deny such DELIGHT for learning?

"Ok, let's go back to Melody's world... we'll write tomorrow!"  As I grinned and mentally began re-arranging the next few days of lesson plans, they scampered across the room to fight over the pillows, claim the rolly chairs, and situate themselves on the floor.  

The icing on the cake?  Three Korean doctoral students were observing my class for the first time that day.  For several of them, it was their very first time seeing an American high school class.  They thought I was magic!  I think the magic was mostly Sharon Draper... but I also know something special is brewing in my classroom!  

A good kind of tired

at Two Writing Teachers!

Lately, I'm barely able to drag myself from the table to the couch after dinner.  Keeping my eyes open until bedtime is a chore.  As soon as I lie down in bed (and get myself to stop thinking about school), I'm sound asleep.

However, it's a good kind of tired.  It's the kind of tired that leaves your heart happy, because you know the work is good.

How good?

1. Just in case my students weren't excited enough about writing for the StoryBox Project, our local newspaper did an article about our work with the project!  My students were absolutely beaming with pride when it was published!  Moreover, one of my former middle school colleagues shared the article on Facebook with a note about how proud she was, and our district ELL coordinator emailed it to all the other ELL teachers with a comment about how special it was.

2. As we're finishing up our StoryBox stories, we're beginning another exciting project: the Global Read Aloud!  Students are loving Out of My Mind so far, and we're excited to build relationships with other classes through our reading.  There's just nothing like the feeling of being part of something bigger than our classroom!

3. So many other little moments that sparkle like grains of crystal in the shifting sand of everyday work:

• The new student who was so proud of being quoted in the newspaper article that he kept pointing at it, saying "That's me!  Right there!" and reading his name.  ("I've only been here for two weeks!!!" he exclaimed.)
• The student who ran in and hugged me yesterday morning because she loved the Get Well card my classes made for her: "It made me feel special."
• The teacher from another building who emailed to say that my students "had good things to say" about me when they babysat for her parent meeting.
• The staff meeting where my principal told everyone about my summer postcards because he was so excited about how I'm working to build positive relationships with my students.
• The middle school colleague who emails every once in a while to say that he's enjoyed one of my blog posts or to compliment me on something I've done.
• The student who stays after school for help with homework nearly every day, and the giggles we usually collapse into at some point while working through a difficult question or attempting to find a creative way to remember a certain concept.
• Furrowed brows and slight smiles during writing time.
• Gasps and sighs and wide eyes during read aloud. (and whining when we stop!)
• Happy sparks in student eyes when they walk into my room, and exclamations of "This class always goes so fast!" when it's time to leave.

Yes, it's a good kind of tired.