Avenue4Learning

Do you ever look back at some of your educational practices as a new teacher… and cringe? I do. I cringe a lot when I think back to those early years. I was ill-equipped.

When I started my first year as a teacher, I came to the school with a fairly new degree in music and a semester of substitute teaching under my belt. That was it. Not uncommon for many new teachers, though.

My first teaching assignment was at a 7-12 school in 1992. It was a much smaller school (350 students total in 7th through 12th grade) compared to the schools I had attended (520 students in my own graduating class). There was no curriculum at all for the classes I was to teach. First year teacher- had to write curriculum for 4 classes… “oh, and by the way, we need you to teach reading, too.” Also no curriculum, other than a textbook. [image credit: cc licensed image by griffithchris]

So, to say that the above was anything less than daunting would be a lie. However, I had a pretty good foundation of what kids should know and be able to do in music classes. That task was time-consuming, but a good experience. I felt pretty good about what I accomplished in this area.

Looking back, I am maybe a little proud of myself for being able to crank that out. But honestly, I’m a lot more embarrassed to share my ridiculous grading policies for the 7th and 8th grade classes I taught.

In general music, I met with 7th and 8th graders every day, all year, and was required to give them a percentage grade on their report card (no letter grades or rubric scores). There were days when we spent a lot of the class time singing, but we also had music theory, music history, American musical theater, improvisation, and music interpretation units (and probably quite a bit more that I’m not remembering right now).

And I assigned lots of homework. Why? Because I needed a body of work for grades. (ugh) That is the reason for homework, right?

The grades I recorded in my gradebook (which I made in Claris Works spreadsheets!) were averaged (ugh)  on homework grades, quiz grades, test grades, project grades, and participation points (a HUGE UGH!). Participation points were based on behavior. I gave every kid 100 participation points. The points were theirs to lose. If students didn’t do their homework, I gave them zeroes. If they turned in the homework or projects late, I took off points for late work.

As I mentioned at the beginning of the post… this is cringe-worthy.

Do you know how many 7th and 8th graders FAILED my classes? Many. Too many. And the issue is this: I don’t think a single one of those kids failed my class because they were unable to demonstrate their understanding of the concepts. They failed the classes because I was unable to see the difference between a behavior and an academic score.

I pleaded with my students to turn in their homework on time. I even took time out of a lesson to show them the math on the board. “A zero is devastating to your final grade!” I explained how I was helping them to learn to be responsible.

I’m cringing even as I type this.

Ken O’Connor wasn’t a blip on my radar back then, and I didn’t see his book, How to Grade for Learning, until long after I had left that classroom. As a staff developer a few years later, I was introduced to Ken O’Connor in person. I listened to him talk about the problem with grading behavior and academic progress within the same scores. He provided real examples of why averaging grades across time actually shows less progress. He discussed the need for allowing students to re-take tests to show that they have learned and made comparisons to driver’s license testing. O’Connor asked why we set arbitrary deadlines when we knew that not all kids learn at the same rate.

And… it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been that teacher who used grades as a punishment– a punishment to kids who didn’t care about their grades. Everything I had ever been taught about grading and assessing students was so off the mark. I wished right then and there that I could go back in time and start over again with my 7-12 students.

So this is my apology post, more than a decade too late, but here it is:

I was wrong, guys… and I’m truly sorry. You deserved to have a teacher who was more compassionate… a teacher who understood that maybe you really did lose your homework… a teacher who assigned homework only to those who really needed the practice… a teacher who reported your behavior separately from your academic progress. That wasn’t me back then, and I apologize.

If it’s any consolation at all, I am a huge advocate for children now when it comes to grading practices. In my own classroom, I report academic/skill achievement completely separately from behavior. I share my Ken O’Connor book with many people and then try to have open discussions with them to find grading practices that make sense to them. That doesn’t help the kids from my past, but I hope it helps kids now.

Today is World Teachers Day. Have you thanked your favorite teacher today?

In my last post, I asked for names of teachers who make a difference. In this post I’m going to list them– as well as many of my own teachers– to celebrate their hard work and dedication to help kids learn.

I would like to thank the following people, some of whom are no longer with us, for what they taught me about life and learning:

Ward Carhart- my 6th grade classroom teacher. He was the tough teacher that everyone hoped they wouldn’t get. There was another teacher on his team who was seen as the fun guy. Not Mr. Carhart. He was gruff and he expected a lot out of his students. When the phone call came about a week before school started, I was a little sad that Mr. Carhart was on the other line. I wanted the more popular teacher… but during that school year, I knew that I was actually one of the lucky kids. We were challenged by Mr. Carhart. He expected us to do our best. A compliment from him really meant something. By the end of that school year, I was proud to tell everyone who my 6th grade teacher had been!

Barb Wagner – Barb was my AP American History teacher my junior year of high school and also my Civics teacher my senior year. She was the first teacher to ever give me a progress slip because I was NOT doing well in her class. In fact, everyone in our AP American History class received one. We were honor students. Every single one of us on National Honor Society. None of us had ever received a progress slip because of poor performance! Talk about total devastation! But… she made us realize that we were not giving our best. We were doing mediocre work. We were writing essays that were poor quality on our exams. She asked us to provide answers that made us analyze and critique, rather than to simply recall or apply. She wanted well-formed arguments that defended the points we should be making. No teacher had ever done this before. When I look back at my own teaching career, I have always tried to remember Ms. Wagner’s challenge to have high expectations for ourselves and our students.

Mike Janis, Dwayne Price, Ruth Stephenson, William A. Wyman- each of these teachers taught me that music is an essential part of life, that I have an obligation to share the talents I was given with others, and that only my best is good enough for my students and audiences. They also had high expectations and modeled how to learn about life through music. I learned more life lessons from these four individuals than I could possibly recount in a blog post.

While putting my list together… I was more concerned about the people I would leave out. I’ve had some amazing teachers! I’m luckier than most, because I am able to see some of these people quite regularly and tell them how grateful I am for them!

A few people left comments on my last post and specifically named teachers that they feel are amazing! Here’s that list:

Jen Wagner said:

A teacher that needs to be noticed is Brent Coley — http://mrcoley.com/
He is encouraging his students to think daily and is showcasing their work for others to see.
He is encouraging his students to succeed by creating studycasts for their review before tests.
He is encouraging his students to share what they have learned by creating coleycasts which then can be used by other classrooms around the world.
He is encouraging his parents/fellowteachers/peers to keep in touch with him by providing a variety of ways to contact him.
He is encouraging other teachers by sharing what is is doing and how to do it. Plus, shares his resources freely.
His #1 goal is the success of each and every one of his students……individually and as a class.
He is a teacher to be watched. He is a teacher to be emulated. He is a teacher we should clone.

Kelly Tenkely said:

So here are just a few of the amazing teachers I have had the pleasure of working with:
Kerry- currently battling breast cancer (again) after being cancer free for 21 years. She takes the time to know each of her students personally. When she talks to her students she immediately drops to their level. She celebrates everyone of their successes and cheers them on when they are stumbling. Everything she does with the students is a learning adventure. She doesn’t settle for status quo.
Matthew- constantly challenges his students thinking. He doesn’t let them get away with the easy one word answer. He makes them question their beliefs and think critically. He helps them break free of the robot mentality and causes them to be real thinkers.
Susan- A P.E. teacher who believes that every student can shine and should try their best regardless of their athletic ability. She helps those kids who aren’t athletic feel valuable and encourages them to try everything. She celebrates them right where they are.
Karen- a librarian with a real passion for helping students discover that they love reading. She spends hours with them to discover their passions and interests so she can recommend a book they will love.
Christa- an art teacher that helps every student see the world through the eyes of an artist. She breaks down art into manageable pieces so that every single student feels success.

Mary Anne said:

I am drawn immediately to Heather Foster…a 3rd grade teacher here in town…she is able to encourage, challenge and nurture students at all levels in her room. Students who have had her previous years will say, yeah, I am in the Foster Family, and that is how they feel. They are free to experiment, reach, think and learn in her room. Mistakes are avenues to continue the learning and are celebrated. Each student is really motivated to do his/her best…
As a parent, I want her cloned…I want each child to have a chance to have a teacher who loves her job and loves them. The investment in each child is obvious to everyone around.

Lissa Metzler said:

My first year teaching I was fortunate enough to work with Gwen Baccus who with over 30 years of experience could work wonders with first graders. She had them writing amazing sentences, learning fractions, and one student who entered and won a speech competition. I learned a lot from her and her students were better people for having her.

Thanks to all the great teachers out there! You ARE appreciated more than you know!

My parents brought me up to say “please” and “thank you” all the time. I insist on this with my own children as well as with my students. I also prefer to say “You’re welcome,” instead of “No problem.” But I really I love the French response, “avec plaisir,” which means “with pleasure.”

Have you ever been to Chick-Fil-A? When you thank any of their employees, they say, “It’s my pleasure.” Apparently at Chick-Fil-A University (or whatever they name their training program), all employees are instructed to respond in that manner. The first time I ever went to Chick-Fil-A, it was almost a shock to hear, because most people in customer service roles usually mumble “no problem,” if anything at all.

In a previous post, I Am A Teacher, I wrote about how happy teaching makes me, and how no other career opportunity has filled me with such satisfaction. This morning, while on front door duty, I held the door for all my students as they walked through. While saying good morning as they entered, one student thanked me for holding the door. I responded with, “It’s my pleasure.”

And then I thought… my whole job is “my pleasure!” I love teaching kids. I love watching their faces light up when they are excited about learning. Some days are just phenomenal. Some days are downright exhausting. But I wouldn’t teach if I didn’t love it… and because I love it, I want to be the best teacher I can be.

• I don’t teach for summers off. My summers are filled with workshops, classes, and conferences… more learning to be a better teacher.
• I don’t teach to show off how much I know. It’s not a power trip. I’m not the sage on the stage in my classroom. Every day, my kids teach me something new. We are learning together!
• I teach because I love to learn and love to help others learn!

As we listen to the pundits rail on and on about bad teachers and burnt-out teachers, I think it’s important that we stand up and make a case for all the amazing teachers out there. My kids have had some truly incredible teachers. I have had inspirational teachers… those that have forced me to crawl out of my comfort level and really stretch myself… and I still have those teachers in the workshops and classes I continue to take.

So, are you listening Oprah? Bill Gates? Michelle Rhee? I believe there are more of us who are dedicated to our students than not. I believe there are circumstances in children’s lives that can’t be solved by threatening teachers to raise test scores. I believe that test scores show a microscopic view of what a child knows and is able to do ON THAT DAY AND THAT SPECIFIC TIME.

Want to improve education in the United States? Stop the incessant testing of our children. Who would want to go to school to be tested and tested? Empower teachers to help students learn and be creative… and think critically… and solve problems.

If you agree with anything in this post… and even if you don’t… please add a comment about a great teacher who is teaching right now. We need to fight the bad press with some good press.

Thanks for reading. To those parents who trust me with their children: thank you for your brilliant, creative, funny, and wonderful kids! It’s my pleasure to be their teacher.

Edit: P.S. My next post will list all the names from the comments, as well as your accolades!

Opus 140309*

As I sit back and read news about more and more schools considering cutting arts programs from schools while standardized testing gains in popularity and emphasis, I’m reminded of some scenes from the movie, Mr. Holland’s Opus. As a music teacher, everyone expected me to love this movie. To be honest, I thought it was good, but it wasn’t going to be the film I counted on to inspire me daily as a music educator. At the time of its release (1995), music education programs were getting “the axe” in a lot of states. This movie was supposed to help us advocate for our programs, but at the time, I didn’t really see the connections to my own school and program. Looking back… I don’t really know why, so I’ll blame it on the fact that I was young and just trying to survive in my first few years as a teacher.

One particular quote from that movie stuck with me through the years, though. As I now read through some of the arguments for testing, testing, and more testing, I’m really nervous again for arts education. Over and over again, I hear about how important it is for our students to excel in reading, math, and science. That usually means bad news for arts education in public schools. A friend of mine (not an educator) usually teases me when I start to rant about the necessity for arts education in the schools: “Oh, you’re just afraid you’ll be out of a job.” I can’t stress enough that I’m not nervous about my job. I’ve worked in other fields before and could easily go back. This is not about me. This is about our kids. This is about how important arts education is to these children as human beings.

And that’s when I return to the quote from the movie.

Gene Wolters, a school administrator played by William H. Macy, has informed Glenn Holland (Richard Dreyfus) that his program, as well as other arts education programs, has been cut. He won’t have a job the following year. When Holland argues that Wolters doesn’t care about the kids, Wolters replies:

“I care about these kids just as much as you do. And if I’m forced to choose between Mozart and reading and writing and long division, I choose long division.”

Holland responds:

“Well, I guess you can cut the arts as much as you want, Gene. Sooner or later, these kids aren’t going to have anything to read or write about.” [my emphasis]

The term, opus, is defined as a work or composition. Its Latin origins also refer to a great labor. I sometimes use the definition of a “labor of love.” For Glenn Holland’s character, it was the legacy he left to his students through music.

What will your opus be?

Or better yet… will each of your students have the ability to create their own opus? How will you know? I’m pretty certain you won’t find that task on any standardized test.

*cc licensed photo by Dennis AB

September 12-18 was designated as National Arts in Education Week. How did you celebrate?

Part II of my guest post on The Inspired Classroom can be found here.

I love my students. Every day, someone says something so funny or sweet, and I know my face is beaming with pride… I have the privilege of teaching and learning with these kids! Sometimes, their quotes are so hilarious (most of the time, unintentionally so), that I think I should start a blog just to keep them for posterity. My friend, McTeach, aka Karen McMillan, did exactly that- check out her Quotes from Middle School blog!

There was one moment today, however, when I felt so perfectly awful…

I made a kindergartner cry.

I KNOW. What a horrible teacher!

Here was this sweet little boy, with his spiky blond hair, angelic little face, dressed like he just stepped out of a Gap Kids commercial. The girl who was sitting in front of him in music class today kept putting her arms up, and he couldn’t see. So, he pushed her arms down so he could see. I quietly reminded him that we never push someone’s arms down, and would he next time please ask quietly? “Do you think you could apologize to your friend for pushing her arms down?”

I didn’t yell at him. I didn’t use “THE LOOK” that I reserve for some of my 5th graders (yes, it works). I even smiled when I said it! Honest! But then… there it was. The quivering lower lip. And pretty soon… big, fat tears rolling down his face. I’m trying to think if there’s a worse feeling as a teacher than seeing a child cry. Nope. Can’t think of one right now. Luckily, the little girl turned around, told him that she forgave him, gave him a hug and said, “It’s alright. We’re friends.” I love kindergarten.

After class was over, I spoke with him to make sure he knew that he wasn’t in trouble and that I couldn’t wait to see him again in music class. He hugged me. Whew!

TV Guide used to have this section called Cheers & Jeers. It still might… I haven’t looked at a TV Guide since cable came to town about a million years ago. When thinking about this post, the first thing that came to mind was that Cheers & Jeers section. My little kindergarten friend crying– that part of my day deserved a Jeer.

But since I can’t end on an sad note, I’ll leave you with a few Cheers.

We’ve been talking about The Star-Spangled Banner this week. September 14 is the anniversary of Francis Scott Key penning the poem that would later become the national anthem for the United States. Here’s how one class went today:

Me: There was a special birthday yesterday, but it’s not the birthday of a PERSON.

Student: Was it YOUR birthday?!?!?

Me: What? I’m not a person? Am I a robot? [insert "Mrs. Baldwin is a music-teacher-robot" voice here.]

Me: It’s the birthday of our national anthem. It was written on September 14, 1814!

Another Student: Were you there?

Me: Do I look like I’m 196 years old?

Another Student: No, you look like you’re 27.

Me: You are my favorite kid in the whole wide world.

The End… Cheers!

I was recently asked by Elizabeth Peterson to guest post on The Inspired Classroom blog. Elizabeth is an elementary classroom teacher dedicated to infusing arts education into her instruction. This is a great blog to add to your blog reader!!

This week, the theme is Arts Integration. You can find my guest post here: http://www.theinspiredclassroom.com/2010/09/making-connections-through-the-arts/.

Thanks, Elizabeth, for this great opportunity!

push pull*

This post started as a reaction to some posts I saw on Twitter going back and forth about compliance with children in school. My initial reaction is that we all have to learn compliance at some point in our lives, and that as adults we are often expected to comply with rules or policies. But should compliance be expected in every corner of a classroom? Absolutely not. Teaching children compliance for the sake of compliance isn’t really productive. Compliance for safety rules- yes. That makes sense. Compliance for “because I said so” doesn’t really fly with me.

While this post sat in my drafts folder, another post was brewing about the push and pull I feel as a teacher and a parent of children in school.  I began feeling that the two draft posts were related.  I sat on both blog posts a little while longer to really give myself some time to process my own thoughts and reactions.

A week later… I’m not any further than I was when I started.

In my draft posts, I wanted to convey the push and pull I feel as a former technology professional developer, a classroom teacher, and a parent of a child in a public K-12 school district. To add to my inner turmoil: I teach in the same district where my youngest child attends school. The next few points are areas where I am really pushing myself to “walk my talk:”

1. There are only two rules in our classroom: respect each other and respect our equipment/instruments. At the beginning of the school year (and various reminder points throughout the year), I discuss these rules with every single one of my Kindergarten through 5th grade (430+) students. I ask them if they agree with these rules and why. I ask them if we need any other rules. Most of what they suggest falls under “respect each other.” When they discuss as a class, they agree that we don’t need any other rules than those two. They are OUR rules, not MY rules. This is very important. If my students don’t have ownership in their classroom rules, then this becomes “compliance” for the sake of obeying the teacher. Even though I was taught as a child to always obey adults, I believe that kids who take ownership are more respectful of each other and their own rules when they are involved in the decisions. They also understand, through these rules, that they earn respect when they give respect, and that I respect them, too.  In “walking my talk,” I think this is one area where I am doing exactly what I would expect a teacher of my own child to do. Every time I make a decision about classroom rules, I put on my parent hat. As a parent, would I agree with or endorse these classroom rules? Why or why not?
2. There are a few policies dictated in my daughter’s school with which I vehemently disagree. I have asked my daughter to comply with these rules, even when doing so disables her from using tools she’s found to help her with organization (she is naturally very DIS-organized). This is one area where I really feel pushed and pulled. I pride myself in being a boat-rocker. I don’t believe in sticking with the status quo to play it safe or go along with the “this is how we’ve always done it” mentality. I fear that the lessons I’m teaching my daughter – do what you have to do to stay out of trouble- will result in a backwards step for her in her own life lessons experiences. As a parent, I’m looking for avenues to discuss these issues with the school administrators, as well as with our district’s school board to plead her case, and for those of other students, too. In this situation, I would be wearing my parent hat… but also my educator hat. My biggest dilemma: will I make things worse for her if I rock the boat too hard? Second biggest dilemma: will I make things worse for myself as an employee, since it’s the same district? I doubt the latter, as I do not plan to storm the castle with pitchforks and torches. I’m a passionate person, but I feel like I also know how to approach matters respectfully and with care.
3. My personal philosophy about teaching with technology is: if technology enhances or extends the learning experience of students, use it. If it complicates or detracts from the learning experience, don’t use it. I try very diligently to mix the learning experiences for my students in high tech, low tech, and no tech learning activities. This is another area where I feel a lot of push and pull. In many professional development opportunities for music educators, there is great pressure to teach in a purist fashion. No technology. Authentic instruments. This can be good. Kids need these experiences, and they need to know that technology isn’t always the best answer. HOWEVER, during these workshops and classes, I sometimes experience some backlash to technology… almost an arrogant stance against ever using technology. That technology somehow corrupts musical education or education in general. I speak up in these situations, especially when research is spouted about how kids don’t know how to perform some simple task without technology anymore.  Of course, I respond that students need many varied experiences, and then bring up points about obsolete skills… do we really need to teach them skills that either are obsolete now or that will be obsolete at some point in their future? As you can probably imagine, this doesn’t always bode very well for me in these workshops. [*side note: the 'purist' workshops are not provided by my district. I love that my district provides opportunities for its music teachers to learn together and provide professional development that we propose and often deliver ourselves.]
4. As educators, I think we too often fight ourselves. I recently read a featured section in ISTE‘s Leading & Learning journal called Blogger’s Beat. The feature writer, Diana Fingal, called out Will Richardson, specifically,  and other non-classroom educators for pontificating about education reform ideals that are not realistic for classroom teachers. Fingal then quoted Lee Kolbert, a technology specialist who recently returned to the classroom, as someone who has struggled with the transition. My first reaction was that Fingal unfairly quoted Richardson and took him out of context somewhat.  Also, I felt that she used a single blog post written by Kolbert to make a point that Kolbert didn’t necessarily intend to support.  Maybe I reacted to what I read because I’m in a similar situation. I spent eight years in technology professional development, and I’m only just starting my second year back in the classroom. I agree with Will Richardson that education needs someone to light a fire under some educators and education policy makers to realize we can’t keep doing the same things we’ve been doing in education for the last 20, 30, 50, 100 years… and for those of you ready to argue that we have made changes, take a look at photos from classrooms in the 1890s compared to the same structure of classrooms today. Take away the computers, TVs, and other electronic equipment, and most classroom designs look EXACTLY THE SAME. On the other hand, I daily have to force myself to plan lessons differently than from what I learned to do in teacher preparation courses. How can I make my lessons more engaging? How is this lesson going to help my students LEARN? How can I help my students learn more independently, collaboratively with each other… and without me leading them every step of the way? It is difficult, it is a struggle, and sometimes it is a very frustrating experience. There are good days when I feel like I’m doing exactly what I preached to teachers in professional development workshops, but more importantly, I’m doing what’s best for my students. There are bad days when I feel like an utter failure. I don’t know where that middle ground is… or if that middle ground is even good enough.

Maybe I’m putting too much pressure on myself, but I always wear that parent hat. I always want to consider my students in the same manner I want my own children to be considered by their teachers.

I’m pushed and I’m pulled.

*[photo credit: cc licensed photo by Robert S. Donovan]

At ISTE 2010 in Denver, I attended one of Howard Rheingold’s sessions, “Crap Detection 101.” In this session, Rheingold talked with educators about helping students learn how to wade through the endless amounts of data on the web… but most importantly, helping them discern facts from “crap.” I think a lot of adults could use these skills, in addition to our students.

Another form of “crap detection” that I wish educators would learn is how to know when they’re being taken for a ride courtesy of the Techno-Wow Train.

cc licensed photo shared by thekeithhall

I’m not knocking technology in this post. After spending more than a decade in techno-centric roles, that would be a step back for me. What I do have a problem with is when people use technology to make a fancy-schmancy spreadsheet or “beautiful PowerPoint” (oxymoron?) to present bad information (crap) with a nice, shiny bow or a few amazing bells and whistles.

For example, if I were giving multiple choice tests in my music classroom, and then charting the data into an impressive looking spreadsheet to give to my supervisor, I would hope that my supervisor would ask me how I obtained the data. I would hope that my supervisor would NOT be impressed by the delivery method (the spreadsheet), but would ask good questions about the data.

To clarify my point: in the music classroom, I should be assessing what my students know by having them demonstrate what they have learned. Through a multiple choice test, I can evaluate a student’s memory or understanding at the Knowledge level only. Or… maybe that they are good guessers. What is a quarter note? What is an eighth note? These can be answered on a multiple choice test. Do I really know, through a multiple choice test,  if students understand at a deeper level? Absolutely not.

However, if I give those students an activity where they must create their own rhythm patterns using quarter notes and eighth notes, as well as giving them restrictions– I want a rhythm pattern that is two measures long, with four beats per measure– NOW those students must use Application and Synthesis skills to demonstrate what they have learned. I can chart this data just as well as I could chart the multiple choice results.

Which assessment option is better? That’s a no-brainer. BUT… in a spreadsheet of data where I mark “understanding,” how will anyone know what my data represents? It could be the multiple choice data.

I’m really good at making fancy-schmancy spreadsheets. I can make you marvel at my super mad MS Excel skillz. BUT… what do you really want to know about my students? That their teacher can give you the Wow Factor when it comes to presenting data? or that the collected data really means something?

cc licensed photo by shuttermonkey

Want to know why I teach? Read the next few paragraphs and try to imagine the scene.

Today during my Kindergarten and 1st grade music classes, we were singing songs about animals and the sounds they make when they wake up in the morning. I have large cards with pictures of the animals, and there is a curved line on the cards that visibly depicts the “shape” of each animal’s sound. For example, a cat’s meow is in the shape of a “U.” (Take your finger and draw a “U” in the air as you slowly say meee-oooowww… you’ll get it.)

The very last card is an owl. I asked my students to put on their thinking caps. I said, “Boys and girls, I think we might have to change our song for this one. Please put on your thinking caps. What do you know about this bird? Are there words in the song we might have to change? Think for a little bit, and then raise your hands if you think we might have to change something.”

A lot of kids knew the answer right away, but a few took a little while to come up with the answer. My favorite part about this was watching the very VISIBLE thought process on their faces. Their brows were knitting… their eyes were looking up and from side to side… and then WOW! The look of surprise when they realized what we had to change!

“Owls are nocturnal!! They can’t wake up in the morning and make a sound! They wake up in the nighttime!!”

(I didn’t even know that brand new kindergartners knew the word, “nocturnal!”)

I had goosebumps on my arms, because I saw my students getting excited about their thinking. It was such an incredible feeling… for ME. After today, one of my new goals is to be able to help all my students have light bulb moments every time we are together.

Watching those light bulbs go off today was priceless. THAT is why I teach.