Literacy Now

Being a teacher means embracing constant change. Yet all too often, teachers are told when, how and why to change. In this monthly column, Mrs. Mimi takes on creating change for herself by rethinking old practices and redefining teaching on her own terms.

A little birdie told me that February 6, 2013 is Digital Learning Day. Okay, it wasn’t a bird exactly; it was more like Twitter. I learned about Digital Learning Day while reading through my Twitter feed. (How savvy am I? Truth? Not super savvy for someone with a blog and an online column.)

Digital learning is hot. The education world is abuzz with talk of how iPads, virtual field trips, and connecting with schools on other continents via the Internet are going to change the face of classroom instruction as we know it. Watch out! Here comes technology!

Everywhere you look on the street, it seems like younger and younger children have smartphones and are plugged in in ways I could never have imagined. Just watching my two and a half year old navigate her way around an iPhone is alarming. (And thrilling. But mostly just alarming.)

And then I go into a typical classroom. In the corner of the room are three outdated desktops, two of which no longer work, and while the third works it isn’t hooked up to the printer (but the printer’s actually out of toner, so what difference does it make?).

Hi disconnect, nice to meet you.

As a result, I find myself intrigued by the idea of digital learning, but never consider seriously how it might impact my instruction. Sometimes, I’m intimidated by it—when am I going to find the time to learn how to use all of this cool new stuff? When will all of this cool new stuff be made available to me? What if I’m never as comfortable with all of this new technology as I am with a book and my Post-it notes? What’s wrong with a marker and chart paper anyway?

Sound familiar?

And then last week happened.

I went into a school piloting the use of iPads in the classroom. Every second grader had an iPad. Seriously, it was like a sea of iPads—I had to hold my hand up to my eyes to shade them from the glare of all those shiny, shiny screens. Once I stopped squealing, I got a little nervous. After all, without any warning about this major technological shift, I had to demonstrate a reading lesson in front of a bunch of kids reading on iPads and teachers who were ready to learn something new.

photo: Johan Larsson via photopin cc

Granted, I have an iPad and am comfortable with it for my own personal use (read: Words With Friends and checking my blog) but in front of these eager faces, I was afraid that I would screw up the lesson, that I would stumble too much and lose their attention, that I would come off as less knowledgeable. Needless to say, I was also sweating at this point, so there was that too.

But, as you well know, in the world of the elementary school, there isn’t a second to spare, so I had to put on my big girl panties, take my place on the rug and get started. The lesson flowed along nicely because fortunately I was focusing on an objective that transcended how students read. But, as I began to work one-on-one with children, modeling reading conferences with a gang of teachers behind me taking notes, my pulse quickened again.

In my first conference, a student and I discussed his thoughts and reactions to the text as he read. He was feeling frustrated by a character in his reading. He shared that he was frustrated with Junie B. Jones (which he was reading on iBooks) because she never seemed to learn her lesson and kept getting into trouble. After reading several books about Junie, this smart cookie was noticing a pattern in the behavior of the character. My instinct was to help this smarty to record his reactions by highlighting specific moments in the text and jotting his thinking. But how do you highlight again? And jotting? Could he handle jotting on the iPad? Could I?

I went for it and explained my idea and why I thought it would help him as a reader. And then I (gasp) admitted that I wasn’t completely sure how he would mark the text in the ways I had described. Unfazed, my friend said, “Oh, let me show you.” Then he modeled highlighting and note taking within the iBooks application. For me. He modeled for me. After shooting his teacher an impressed look, I quickly modeled right back, showing this young reader how to apply this bit of technological savvy in ways that would record and push his thinking as a reader.

You guys, we both learned something.

Later, his teacher reported back that this young man had then gone on to model for everyone not only how to highlight and record notes in iBooks, but how to use this strategy to record a reader’s reactions to specific lines of text.

And I die.

Bottom line? The technological capacity may not be in your classroom today, but it’s coming. And it means change, which is always a little scary. But if this moment was my glimpse into the power of digital learning, then I say game on.

Mrs. Mimi is a pseudonymous teacher who taught both first and second grades at a public elementary school in New York City. She's the author of IT'S NOT ALL FLOWERS AND SAUSAGES: MY ADVENTURES IN SECOND GRADE, which sprung from her popular blog of the same name. Mimi also has her doctorate in education from Teachers College, Columbia University.

Being a teacher means embracing constant change. Yet all too often, teachers are told when, how and why to change. In this monthly column, Mrs. Mimi takes on creating change for herself by rethinking old practices and redefining teaching on her own terms.

Let me begin with a bit of a disclaimer…While you are reading this in the first moments of 2013, please know I am writing this just days after that tragic day at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, CT.

I want to make a joke or two followed by something I hope you find relevant to your daily lives as teachers. I want to say something a little saucy and slightly over the line to make you laugh at the end of a long day. But I just don’t have it in me right now.

I’m sure you understand. Everything feels heavy. Perhaps because this happened in an elementary school of all places, perhaps because I am a teacher and I know what six is, perhaps because this happened too close to home for me, or perhaps because I am a mommy.

Does it matter?

Each month I try to think about a topic from our everyday classroom experiences and look at it in a new light. I do this mostly for selfish reasons as I have a perverse need to constantly have a project, but I hope some of you are able to get something out of it too. Right now, all I can think about is those teachers who were and are heroes. I imagine what that day must have been like, the thoughts that raced through their heads, their instinct to protect and act quickly and selflessly.

Among other things, this event is a cry for us to rethink how we address mental health in our country and in our schools. It is time to provide the support and guidance teachers need to more successfully deal with what appears to be a growing number of children with particular social and emotional needs all while teaching a reading lesson.

photo: networkosaka via photopin

But, for the teachers out there who are currently working with children who have mental health issues, I want you to rethink “being a hero.” I am talking about “being a hero” in the sense that I know many of us out there are afraid to ask for help when we are truly struggling with controlling or reaching a student. Many of us think that we were given this class and take pride in being able to handle things on our own. Others are afraid to admit they want help because they work in a school culture where teachers feel like they have to “prove themselves.”

It is not a sign of your failure as a teacher if you are unable to provide the type of environment our students suffering from mental illness deserve. You were not prepared for this. You are a hero even if you ask for help (and maybe especially if you ask for help).

So gather your class around you. Share a book together. Share your favorite memories from the school year thus far. And share the load by asking for help and making it known that teachers need support and guidance when working with children who struggle socially or emotionally.

You are already a hero.

Mrs. Mimi is a pseudonymous teacher who taught both first and second grades at a public elementary school in New York City. She's the author of IT'S NOT ALL FLOWERS AND SAUSAGES: MY ADVENTURES IN SECOND GRADE, which sprung from her popular blog of the same name. Mimi also has her doctorate in education from Teachers College, Columbia University.

Being a teacher means embracing constant change. Yet all too often, teachers are told when, how and why to change. In this monthly column, Mrs. Mimi takes on creating change for herself by rethinking old practices and redefining teaching on her own terms.

Teaching is an emotional thing. There is the joy you feel when your students master a new concept, the frustration you feel when they look at you like you’re speaking in tongues, the nervousness you feel before the first day, and the relief you feel when their little fannies walk out the door on the day before a vacation. But you know the one emotion that doesn’t get enough attention as it relates to the lives of teachers?

Panic.

Yeah, I said it. Panic. Teachers feel panic. And you know what? I think a little panic makes us better teachers. A little panic never hurt anyone.

We have a huge responsibility as teachers. You know, we work to create thoughtful citizens, we instill a love of reading and help children curate an identity as readers, we expose children to new ideas, we encourage teamwork and inventive problem solving….all while holding our pee for eight solid hours and never sitting down. That is INTENSE!

I begin the year with energy, with plans, with enthusiasm, with ideas, with the calm that only comes from a few weeks spent on the beach. As the year progresses, and September becomes October, I feel accomplishment as my little friends are settled into our routines nicely and are shaping up to be a lovely group. As October slips into November and then December comes out of nowhere, the panic begins to set in. I have to get my students to hit what benchmark as readers? And why has that particular group of friends seemed to stall in their progress? What happened to my organized conferring notes? Where should I go to find new and exciting titles? And has anyone seen my To-Do list…I thought I put it right here…you can’t miss it—it’s five pages long and double sided.

photo: net_efekt via photopin cc

Panic.

Just yesterday, I sat with a group of teachers who were deep into their annual panic. They were hungry for new titles to share with their classes, for ideas to use to ramp up the effectiveness of their reading conferences, and for new tricks to better organize their mountains of notes and data. And that’s when I realized—the panic made each of these teachers better than they ever imagined they could be. The panic created a sense of urgency that did not consume these teachers; rather, it pushed them to work harder to see results and improve their own practice in significant ways.

So as the holidays approach and your own sense of personal and professional panic come to a jolly head, take a breath and recognize that this panic is making you a total rock star.

Mrs. Mimi is a pseudonymous teacher who taught both first and second grades at a public elementary school in New York City. She's the author of IT'S NOT ALL FLOWERS AND SAUSAGES: MY ADVENTURES IN SECOND GRADE, which sprung from her popular blog of the same name. Mimi also has her doctorate in education from Teachers College, Columbia University.

Being a teacher means embracing constant change. Yet all too often, teachers are told when, how and why to change. In this monthly column, Mrs. Mimi takes on creating change for herself by rethinking old practices and redefining teaching on her own terms.

Have you ever heard the saying, “Too much of a good thing?” I’m sure you have. Too many fruity cocktails after a long week can be too much of a good thing. Too many field trips planned for the end of the school year can be too much of a good thing. And, too much emphasis on student reading levels can definitely be too much of a good thing.

Can I share with you one thing that kind of freaks me out? While I love all things organized, the sight of a classroom library organized solely by reading levels makes my skin crawl. Where is the joy of reading in that? And what makes me even sadder is when I ask a teacher about a particular student’s reading and he or she replies, “Oh, he’s a 38.” What reduces me to practically weeping in the hallway is when I ask a student about his or her reading and hear, “Oh, I’m a 38.”

Pardon me while I collect myself for a moment.

Please don’t misunderstand. I think reading levels are wonderful tools. As teachers, they help us to more clearly see how typical reading development unfolds, they give us strategies to help focus and refine our teaching, they provide us with a method for organizing our instruction in powerful ways, and they can serve as a common language to use in conversations about trends we observe in our practice.

I also don’t blame teachers for this all too common reality. I think many of us out there are just trying to survive in an age of extreme accountability where data collection and placing students on a graph seems to have superseded everything we know about best practices and the idea of fostering a love of reading somehow seems like an investment we no longer have time for.

However, students are not reading levels alone and classroom libraries are not places for sorting books like they are a million tiny screws in an aisle at Home Depot.

photo: riaskiff via photopin cc

Personally, I think the implementation of the Common Core State Standards could go in two distinct directions. They could go the way of testing and accountability and measuring things and blah blah blah. Or, we could use the CCSS as a tool to help us redefine reading practices in our classrooms, starting with how we organize our libraries and think about our students as readers. The Common Core asks us to create independent thinkers who have a broad understanding of various reading genres and text types, not kids who know how to pick a book out of bin labeled with the correct number. It asks us to develop students who can closely read any text while also speaking passionately and knowledgeably about the types of books and reading that they love.

What does all this mean for our classrooms? (Hold on, let me step down from my soap box for now.) I think it means we continue to determine the appropriate reading levels of our students and use that information to help guide and shape our instruction. These are good, helpful, wise tools and we should continue to use them. However, it also means reorganizing our libraries to include some leveled baskets, but also books sorted by area of interest, author, genre, and text types. It means helping our students to develop and articulate their identities as readers. What books do they love the most? What are they interested in reading or learning more about? What authors or illustrators make them excited to read? How do they like to read? And where? How do students prefer to share their thinking about their reading– in a conversation with others, on a blog, in a journal?

Do you know what never feels like too much of a good thing? (Or at least it never gets to be too much in my deeply nerdy little family.) Reading. Loving reading. Sharing books. Discovering new authors. Refining who we are as readers. That is always a good thing and it never feels like too much. In fact, the time we are able to find never feels like enough.



Putting the 'Fun' in Reading Fundamentals

QUIET! Teacher in Progress: Focus on the 'How'

Being a teacher means embracing constant change. Yet all too often, teachers are told when, how and why to change. In this monthly column, Mrs. Mimi takes on creating change for herself by rethinking old practices and redefining teaching on her own terms.

This week marks the 30th anniversary of Banned Books Week!

Okay, I’ll be honest with you. Banned Books Week wasn’t exactly on my calendar. But when a little birdie told me that my column was scheduled to appear right smack in the middle of this celebration, I turned to my friend and yours, Google.

Banned Books Week celebrates the freedom to read what you choose and draws attention to the problem of censorship. I spent some time looking at lists of the top 100 most challenged titles from the last two decades. And you know what? I’ve read about half of them.

What made me really stop and take notice was when I realized that one of the series books that I regularly read aloud to my little friends made the list: Junie B. Jones. Seriously? Did I miss the one where she joined a cult or something?

Once again, I turned to my friend Google to see what was what. Evidently, people object to Junie’s incorrect grammar and impetuous nature. Um, hello? Isn’t that sort of the appeal of Junie? That she speaks in a way that is typical of many five year olds (it’s called voice, people) and has problems that a large number of young readers can relate to (like being impetuous). Personally, I know a lot of teachers don’t care for the series, but the idea of banning it from the library all together seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?

Methinks there are some people out there with too much time and an anger problem.

photo: nataliesap via photopin cc

Regardless, the entire situation got me thinking about what we decide to read to our students and how we decide to read it. Do you know what I realized? It’s not so much the what as it is the how.

Let me explain. I’m sure you’ve heard the words “text complexity” kicked around your school a time or two this year. With the introduction of the Common Core State Standards and its assertion that all students must engage with grade-level appropriate texts, we have become obsessed with the what. What are we going to read? What is considered grade-level appropriate? What is considered complex?

Yet, I think the more important question is the how. How are we going to make these text selections work for all students? And, my personal favorite, how are we going to encourage students to become critical readers of text? How do we push our students to think critically about what is being said and what is not being said?

You see, if we shift our focus to how we would like our students to interact with text regardless of its subject matter or complexity, then the what starts to matter less.

Now, don’t get carried away here. Please do not run into your classrooms with 50 SHADES OF GREY screaming, “It’s the HOW that matters!” Because in that situation, I think the what may very well take center stage.

Mrs. Mimi is a pseudonymous teacher who taught both first and second grades at a public elementary school in New York City. She's the author of IT'S NOT ALL FLOWERS AND SAUSAGES: MY ADVENTURES IN SECOND GRADE, which sprung from her popular blog of the same name. Mimi also has her doctorate in education from Teachers College, Columbia University.

© 2012 Mrs. Mimi. Please do not reproduce in any form, electronic or otherwise.