Everybody Needs a Soft Place to Land #SOL16

Everybody needs a soft place to land.

Everybody needs to know that,

no matter what,

someone will hold you,

hug you,

help pick up the pieces,

stitch it all back together,

point out the rainbow

when all you see is the storm.

Everybody needs a soft place to land.

Everybody needs that person you can call,

at any time, day or night,

whenever and wherever,

Who always answers

and always helps.

No matter what you've done

or failed to do.

Steadfastly in your corner,

Always on your side.

Everybody needs a person like that.

Everybody needs a soft place to land.

Everybody needs to believe

no matter how far you wander

or stray from your beliefs

no matter how conceited or vain

or downtrodden and despairing

someone always knows your heart

believes in you

despite your failings, your mistakes,

knows your goodness 

deep down in their soul.

Before you can stretch and risk

and be brave and daring,

Before you can conquer your fears

Before you climb mountains,

You need to know,

truly, completely know,

you will survive if it all goes wrong.

Knowing you have a soft place to land,

gives you all the strength

to keep on striving, 

growing, 

becoming.

Everybody needs a soft place to land. 

#SOL16 Waving Goodbye

Oh, house hunters. Today you will notice a new house on the market, will click on the pictures, consider the location and price, possibly be interested in seeing it, maybe making it your new home. You'll think, "It needs work" and it does. You'll see that it needs some updating, for sure. But there's so much you won't see. 

You'll see a porch. It was the porch where I sat on many summer evenings, fireflies dotting the night sky, chatting with my Grandy about life and his memories of growing up in Brooklyn. He used to have a black radio with an antennae on the ground next to him, listening to hear if the Yankees won. The porch overlooked a garden he tended to most lovingly. One of our most-told family stories happened on this very porch when I was about 3 years old. My father was trying to hang a plant and I pushed him, saying, "Excuse me, please." He didn't want to step on my Grandy's prize flowers, so he leapt over the garden, landing on the lawn. Hanging plants in my family were always called "Excuse Me Pleases" from that moment on. 

Grandma and I had coffee on this porch later, when I was a college student then teacher. Sometimes we would sit and watch the goings on of the neighborhood. After Grandy died, she put rocks in the garden instead of soil and potted flowers and plants. I would help her by filling the watering can and watering the plants on hot days, when they were especially thirsty. 

House hunters, as you enter the house, you will see two comfy rocking chairs near a large window. This was a favorite spot of my Grandma's, in the sunshine, often listening to her radio- not the Yankees, but Frank Sinatra or maybe the news. This was the chair she held my babies in, laughing and rocking them and singing songs to them ("Let's all sing like the birdies sing...tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet"). There's a piano- where my dad taught me to play "Heart and Soul" when I was little- the only song I know how to play on a piano. 

Off the living room is the kitchen and dining room, which is where so many of my memories reside. Grandy making his special "bubbly grilled cheese" for my sister and me, when both our parents and Grandma were at work. Grandy, rolling up his sleeves and doing the dishes after Grandma prepared a delicious meal. Sunday spaghetti dinners, with meatballs, and a side of political conversation and debates. My Grandfather, a Republican, and my Father, a Democrat loved to hash out the issues of the day. I remember baskets of nuts and my Grandy teaching me how to crack walnuts. I remember him letting me put his wine to my lips. The table where laughs and stories were shared.

Later, when I was a new teacher, Grandma would make me dinner each Wednesday and we would sit with my Uncle Billy and eat and chat. Then we would head up to the den to watch Rachael Ray's 30 Minute Meals or reruns of The Match Game. Grandma would go back down to the kitchen and put her kettle on, then bring up cups of tea for us and maybe cookies. It was a peaceful, relaxing, loving way to spend time during a busy teaching week. 

The den calls to mind other memories. Sleepovers on Saturday nights with my sister when we were much younger, Grandma and Grandy's house the "hotel." I can still smell the clean, fresh sheets Grandma would put on the bed inside the pull-out couch. We would watch "Golden Girls" together before turning out the lights. My sister and I fought over the covers all night long, not used to sleeping in the same bed. In the morning, there would be a fancy breakfast- eggs, bacon, rolls and buns or sometimes a simple breakfast- cereal or toast. It was all good. 

House hunters, you'll notice there's a railing on the second floor, where I used to help hang "toy" ornaments at Christmas time. My grandparents loved Christmas and took special pride in making their house look festive and fun for all of us to celebrate. You'll notice there's a pantry in the laundry room in the basement. I often ran down there to get my Grandma a can of sauce or a box of rice or whatever she needed. 

After Grandma died this past December, I opened the hallway closet where all her jackets and coats still hung. They smelled like her and I breathed in deeply. I know those jackets are not in there anymore, I know she's not in her house anymore, not sitting in her rocking chair in the sun, not puttering in the kitchen, not chatting on the phone with my mom. I know it won't be my second house anymore, as it always was, growing up. I know it's empty and silly to keep. I know the best thing to do is move forward and let you come see this house, think about the memories you will make with your family, the laughter and meals you will share.  Grandy always, always said, "Don't look back." Perhaps he knew we would need those words during challenging times of our lives, times like this, when all you want to do is hold on tightly. Move forward, we must. This could be the place where your new chapter starts, as we close the book on a beautiful story. 

Yet... I still can't bear to drive my car down the block, to look at the porch, to remember the way my Grandparents would stand and wait until our car started driving off, waving goodbye.

The Important Thing About Being a Teacher #SOL16

The important thing about being a teacher is you are doing your part to create a better world. You are teaching students what they say and do matters, and you are showing them the power of literacy to unlock doors, to open possibilities. You are teaching them to think critically, to ask questions, to challenge what has always been in the hopes of what could be. You are the smile that greets them, the ears that listen to them, the eyes that really see who they are. You are the heart that cares for them. You are the library, full of books, magazines, poems and words that will nourish their minds, hearts, and spirits. 

When you are a teacher, you can get lost in all the "to-do's" and can almost convince yourself that the curriculum is king and the pacing charts reign supreme. You find your true purpose, once again, by realizing that the student matters more than standards on a page; when recognizing that the conversation about a book is just as valid, and maybe more so, then a lexile level; by believing that a standardized test will never be the full story for a child as a learner or a teacher as an educator. 

The teacher does not accept a world where leaders, and those wishing to be leaders, employ bullying tactics and speak in divisive, unkind ways. You choose kind and makes choosing kind an essential understanding above all else. You know that this time, with these kids, is precious, and this is your opportunity to plant seeds of optimism, resilience, perseverance, empathy, integrity. 

They will grow up, they will have jobs. Some will be hairdressers, some will be doctors, some will be engineers, some will be cashiers, some will be moms and dads. More important than any specific facts you share or information you impart will be the memory of how you made them feel. If they remember to think before they speak, if they remember that everyone has value and is deserving of respect, if they make time to read for themselves and to their children,  if they can write a beautiful letter to someone they love because you taught them their words have power...then, you have touched the future. 

There are many things a teacher must do and be, but the important thing- the most important thing about being a teacher is you are doing your part to create a better world. 


Happy Teacher Appreciation Week to the world-changers! 

(Inspired, of course, by The Important Book by Margaret Wise Brown)

#SOL16 Who's Ready for Kindergarten?

He hopped down the sidewalk on one foot, his joy and excitement bubbling over with each step. Just across the street we walked, but like another world- kindergarten. The first orientation for parents and students. How strange it was to be on the other side of it now- for ten years, I taught kindergarten and stood at orientations, smiling reassuringly about this milestone. Sitting in the cafeteria and listening to the principal and school specialists talk about kindergarten, I tried to hear what wasn't being said as much as what was. Tears fell as the psychologist read this poem. Letting go is not as easy as I made it sound when I gave the pep talk to parents. 

There was a packet and many, many papers. There was a book (If You Give a Dog a Donut) which was lovely, I thought. There was a list of sight words and a conversation about early literacy profiles and being picked up for reading if you  score low. Worry filled my heart, because my sensitive, bright boy is so very hard on himself, so easily frustrated and devastated when he feels he doesn't know something. We are working on it. How will he cope with assessments done early in the year? What will he think if he is found to be in need of remediation in the early days of kindergarten? Why can't we slow all of this down and let them learn without labeling them as behind at the get-go? 

And, so, tonight, I put on my kindergarten teacher hat that's been on the shelf since I became a third grade teacher last year. I typed up the words "I can", red for "I" and blue for "can." I told Alex we would be making a book together. He was having none of it and refused for quite a while while I went through the process with his little sister, Megan. Finally, he came around. I cut out the words and positioned them on the paper and had him tape them down. I asked him to tell me what he can do and then I wrote his words and he drew the picture. 

The ideas were all his. I especially loved the hug, with the heart above the two huggers. So, now we have a book that Alex "wrote" and a book he can read. Early literacy lessons implicit were words make up sentences, words go from left to right, words are made up of letters and words and pictures are different. I am hoping to teach him the high frequency words "I" and "can" through this book, as well as increase his self-confidence as a reader and a writer. I hope to throw in one to one correspondence by pointing crisply under each word as we read and reread the book. We can make similar books using different high frequency words. 

I hope Alex will make more books with me this spring and summer. I hope he will feel confident and have solid knowledge when he is assessed for his early literacy skills. I hope he will want to hop on one foot, bubbling with excitement, when kindergarten is the reality he goes to each day. I've been the teacher, assessing, noticing, listing who can't write his name yet, who can't follow directions, who doesn't know his letters or sounds. Now, as the mom, I hope Alex's teacher will see the whole child, my whole child, not as a checklist of what he can and can't do, but as a remarkable, curious, loving boy who WILL learn... as he is ready. 

#SOL16 Poems Hide

Sunday night, I participated in the #Read4Fun chat on Twitter. The topic was poetry, and the chat brought to mind some of my favorite poems. A long-standing favorite of mine is "A Valentine for Ernest Mann" where Naomi Shihab Nye writes, "Poems hide." 

Today, I found a poem hidden in the oversized, dusty Nemo that has been sitting atop the mailbox in my classroom. Nemo originally came from the board walk of the Jersey Shore, where I surprisingly won him in a game in the summer of 2004. Nemo lived in my kindergarten classroom for a long time. Now he lives in 3rd grade and he's part of the background, largely ignored.

My third graders and I were writing poems today, beginning with an image first. I brought in some objects from home and invited them to look out our classroom window, too, for ideas. At first, the room was chatty and I worried they weren't focusing, but soon they all found spots and there was a quiet hum of kids really working. I sat on the carpet with Nemo and wrote this poem:

Nemo
By Kathleen Sokolowski

In his black, round eyes
are memories of salt air.
A thin layer of dust 
replacing sand
on his neon orange fur.
He has seen much.

Once he hung among the bright lights
illuminating summer evenings
boardwalk smells wafting over him,
buttery popcorn, fresh baked cookies.
A prize to be won.

A train ride, then,
to a place without ocean breezes.
Children's laughter still surrounds,
but more subdued here.
He became a comforting friend
to little ones missing home, too. 

Now, Nemo lives in 3rd grade
Atop a mailbox,
He fades into the scenery
Not really noticed
Never thought of,
Until right now. 

Learning Outside of School #sol16

Two Saturday mornings ago, I received an email from a parent in my class. My student had been inspired by a school assembly called "Bash the Trash", where musicians used recyclable materials to make musical instruments. The buzz from many of the teachers, including myself, was that the assembly was a little quirky and not our favorite. Some of us felt ourselves being lulled to sleep as the recyclable instruments were played. But you just never know what is going to resonate with a student and this assembly really did for one boy in my class. 

With his dad's help, he created musical instruments out of soda and water bottles and cans taped together. He wanted to make a video of himself playing his instruments and his dad even joined him in the concert. Then, he wanted his dad to send ME the video. It was adorable, but also made me stop and think about the nature of learning in today's world:

• We need to give kids lots of different experiences, including ones that involve the arts and creating, because you just never know what will impact a child.
• When a student is excited about learning, that excitement carries over to home and time outside of school.
• Students today view video as an important method of expressing themselves and seek the feedback they get when others watch their video.
• Students are looking for ways to connect their school world and home world.

When we came back to school on Monday, I showed the class the video and my student answered their questions about the instruments he made very proudly. I could see other students thinking about ways they might try that, too. Yet another understanding: Students learn from their peers and are motivated by seeing what their peers create. 

Now, connection to my non-teaching life. Yesterday was one of those busy days after school where a dentist appointment led me to picking up my children after 5pm from my parents' house. By the time we got home, my son had asked to use the iPad and I still had to make dinner, so I said he could for a few minutes. Usually, any kind of homework or letter practice is a struggle (my son is in preschool) and he does not like to do it. Imagine my shock, then, as I sat down to eat dinner in the kitchen, Alex enters with a paper full of words. He had put the iPad away on his own (?!) and decided to surprise me with all the words he knows how to write. There were some exclamation marks and punctuation marks on the page, too. From the look on his face, I could see how proud and excited he was. Self-directed learning, outside of school hours. 

So how do we make this happen more, for more kids? Today, the Shared Decision Making Team at my school will be discussing summer learning for kids and how we can help them to keep reading, writing, and practicing math facts. How can we find ways to inspire them to keep learning? I would love to hear your thoughts on learning outside the school day and creating opportunities for kids in the summer. 

#SOL16 The Word Gap

I tweet. I vox. I even snapchat now. But I haven't really embraced podcasts until the last couple of weeks. After reading a great post by Kimberley Moran about the podcast her students created, I knew I needed to listen more to podcasts. I couldn't really envision a way for my students to create their own podcasts or even why they should do that until I saw the value myself. Now I can say I am a podcast lover!

One of the podcasts I started listening to was Penny Kittle's Book Love Foundation Podcast Teacher Learning Series. Today I listened to a podcast about teachers as leaders. During the conversation, a teacher shared how being part of a local site of the National Writing Project gave her confidence with her writing and support as she learned strategies to teach writing. Penny spoke about the model of teachers sharing with each other as being so powerful and how the Writing Project remains the most favored professional development. 

This was music to my Writing Project ears. I have been part of the Long Island Writing Project since 2002 and most recently became one of the co-directors of the site. Last weekend, my friend and fellow Slice of Life blogger, Barbara Suter, prepared and presented an engaging and rich conversation about poetry and ENL students. (ENL is the latest acronym for ESL- it stands for "English as a New Language.") Barbara had so many beautiful poetry books on display, as well as several samples of books her ENL students had created. 

She opened with a lovely Native American Prayer Poem, which we read together, as Native American inspired music played softly in the background. Then, Barbara moved to reading two separate pieces aloud, asking us to take notes and then pull together our thoughts on the two texts. One was an article about the word gap between children in poverty and children from homes with professional parents (the Hart and Risley study). The other piece was about poetry not being a test, not having one "right answer." From both pieces, I wrote a poem, which I will share for today's Slice:

The Word Gap

My 3 year old Megan
knows many words:
customer
spatula
buffet
tunic
banister
She sings all the time.
My father has taught her
to sing "Weave Me the Sunshine"
Megan sings, "Weave me 
the hope of the new tomorrow
And I'll be back again."
My mother reads to her,
sings to her, 
takes her to the library,
where she soaks up words
like a thirsty sponge,
then sprinkles them
smartly in conversation.

I am at work,
where my 3rd graders
are often puzzled 
by what words mean.
They stop me 
during read alouds
and in books they read,
jotting down the words
on a piece of paper
adding to our bucket 
of unfamiliar words.
The ENL teacher 
who works with me
one period a day,
stops to explain words
I take for granted they know.
I move full steam ahead,
Not understanding...
They don't understand. 


Many thanks to Barbara for a thought-provoking presentation that has given me much to reflect upon as a teacher who works with students learning English. The LIWP Director, Darshna Katwala, wrote a beautiful poem inspired by Barbara's workshop. You can find it here.