back to mentoring September 18, 2009

This year I am once again mentoring/coaching other teachers.  I know there are plenty of ways that I can improve, and one thing I’m trying to do is to be more organized about my time, and communicate more often with my teachers.  I’ve started sending out a weekly email with my schedule, and whose classrooms I will visit, and when.  The teachers have responded well to it and a few have even said thanks, which tells me I didn’t communicate this sort of thing to them well enough last year.

The first week I went to the kindergarten classrooms, and was delighted to see that the well-deserving K teachers have a more mellow group.  Last year and the year before were somewhat challenging (two years ago at this time the kindergartners were like wild wolf puppies, tumbling and wrestling on the floor, in all three classrooms, and last year was only a bit better), but the K kids I saw were listening to their teachers and participating in their storytimes.

Then this past week I went to first grade.  One teacher was putting tape on the floor in three rows, to mark where the kids should sit, which is an idea he got from me last year.  I was pleased to see that at least once, I did something useful!  His class was mellow, but the other two were more challenging.  My job is to assist teachers in improving the quality of their teaching in general, and to help them with readers’ workshop and writers’ workshop in particular.  Behavior management is not part of my brief, but sometimes that has to be done before the teachers can settle in to teach reading or writing.

Next week I’ll make my visits to second grade, and then I’ll be visiting on a regular schedule to observe and coach.

student in free fall November 21, 2008

I visited a second grade classroom, and a boy I remember from my visits to first grade last year was there.  I was shocked by his deterioration.

Last year he had an attitude, and sometimes didn’t pay attention, but he was clearly smart and he eventually did his work.  No big deal.  Yesterday was different — he had somehow lost control of himself and his body.  He couldn’t sit still, so I sat behind him and touched his back gently, and whispered his name.  With most kids that would work but it seemed to rile him up more.  Soon he was leaning on the kid next to him or flopping on the floor, instead of sitting up in the circle.  I eventually moved away as it seemed I might be making things worse.

The poor teacher was trying to give directions for the math activity but I never once saw this boy look at her or give any indication that he heard a word she said.  He made his hands into guns and “shot” the kids around him.  He was in his own world. 

Then an older woman I realized was his grandma stepped up, and she tried and tried to get him to pay attention.  She was whispering to him lovingly and even guided his head so he’d be facing the teacher, and she didn’t have any luck either.  It was almost like listening or focusing was beyond his abilities.

Later, she sat next to him to do the activity, and instead of listening, he built guns out of manipulatives.  It was like someone had shot him up with ADHD poison, and he was completely lost in his own hyperactive world.  I mean, it looked like he couldn’t even look at grandma and have a conversation with her.

It made me so sad for the rest of the day.

life as a mentor teacher, part two November 19, 2008

So I never posted about my experience visiting first grade and teaching a math lesson to that class of wigglers….

Last Thursday, after having demonstrated an interactive read-aloud to my peers at a meeting before school, I left the meeting early and went to first grade, where I talked to the teacher about the lesson to be sure I understood what I was supposed to do.  Next I rushed to my classroom, where I greeted my kids and got them sent off to art class.  Then I had a few minutes to prepare for the math lesson. 

I saw the assistant principal in the hall and grabbed her.  “Could you take a look at this?  Is this a lesson objective, or am I merely describing the activity?”  We had talked about it at our mentors’ meeting the day before, and I wanted to be sure I was modeling my lesson objective correctly.  The AP and I stared at the document on my computer screen and then figured out how to strengthen what I had written.  I hit print and raced off to first grade.

It went well.  I had already placed three lines of tape on the floor, having noticed that in a large circle, many of the wigglers were not facing their teacher and weren’t willing to make the effort to turn their heads and pay attention.  The kids were pretty interested in the change, and sat down in three nice rows for me. 

Next change:  I passed out trays, paper, and pencils, so that they could work sitting right there in the meeting area.  (On my previous visit I noticed that once the kids were at the tables, the screen was too far away for them to pay attention.)  Trays are awesome.  I have been using former airline meal trays for about 13 years.  In preK they can be used as a writing surface, the way I used them in first grade, but they are also great as a workspace.  (At our lego table, no one is allowed to touch anyone else’s tray — let alone take someone’s legos.)

Third change — I used a document camera.  The teacher was accustomed to using an overhead projector, but in order to beam the image onto the screen, the o.p. had to be on a cart right in the middle of the meeting area, making it impossible for the kids to sit there.  Doc cams are great, as they can be over on the side.  I used it to share my lesson objectives (“by the end of the lesson, you will be able to…”), and then to model the activity. 

K-5 is using Investigations this year, which I am not familiar with, as preK uses a different curriculum for math, but I hear good things from my fellow teachers (unlike the bad old days when we had Everyday Math, which Everyone Hated).  In this lesson, I showed the children a shape for 5 seconds, and then hit the a/v mute button so the screen went blank, and asked them to draw the shape from memory.  It was surprisingly challenging for them, and some really struggled (and a few really wiggled), but by and large, I had their attention, and we made it through together.

This week, I notice that the three lines are still on the floor, and the teacher is still using the document camera.  So I smile a little to myself and hope that I was helpful.

life as a mentor teacher, part one November 13, 2008

So I got to school this morning at 8, already nervous about presenting a math lesson in first grade at 10.  There was an 8:20 staff development workshop before school, school started at 9:30, and I wouldn’t have much time to prepare for my visit to first grade.

I checked my email and saw that I was supposed to present/model an interactive readaloud at the meeting, which I had agreed to in passing a week ago, but hadn’t heard about since.  Swearing at the computer, and feeling some adrenaline surge through my body, I dug out the repeated interactive read-aloud (RIRA) lesson plan for Swimmy (by Leo Lionni) that I wrote last year.

The mentor teacher in charge of the meeting gave a good intro to interactive read-alouds as part of the Reader’s Workshop model, and then I got up to make my (un-prepared) presentation.

It went really well.  I am comfortable in front of groups, and I know my stuff, and it didn’t hurt that right before I went up a first grade teacher said to the woman in charge, pointing at me, “she’s a master at this.”  I spoke passionately about the importance of reading aloud to children with purpose.

In a repeated interactive read-aloud, you prepare ahead of time the vocabulary you want children to know, the (thoughtful) questions you will ask, and the comments you will make to model for children how good readers think about what they are reading.  As to the vocabulary, it drives me crazy when teachers stop reading, ask, “does anybody know what ‘swift’ means?” and then try and try to pull the answer out of the kids when the truth is, not one child knows the meaning of the word.  I said, “In a first read-aloud, it really slows things down if you try to get the kids to tell you the meanings of the words.  This time through, you stop to carefully — but quickly — define or act out the words, so that by the third read-aloud, the children can do it.”

I then read the story, using my lesson plan, and inserted vocabulary support and commentary throughout.  Several teachers asked questions, and I sat down, tired and relieved.

Later on, when I left work for the day, the Prince stopped me.  “That was really good this morning,” he said.  “Anyone would be lucky to be in your class.”

first grade wigglers November 11, 2008

Today while my kids were suffering through art (a topic for another post), I went to a first grade room in my role as a mentor teacher.  I sat in on a math lesson, and couldn’t believe how restless and distracted the kids were.  My four year olds sit in a circle and pay attention soooo much better than these six year olds!

The lesson went okay, but the teacher and I talked about it later and agreed that classroom management is the big issue.  He said he was open to suggestions, and said that this feels like the first time that his classroom management skills aren’t doing the trick.  I’ve been in his room before and I know that he is a good teacher — but this class!  Wow!

I remember how they were last year in kindergarten — they were rolling around on the floor like puppies.  All the kindergarten teachers would talk about how that group of kids seemed so self-centered, pampered, and immature.  Now the first grade teachers are saying the same things.

So we talked about doing things in a more structured way, and using some of my organizational tricks to keep transitions at a minimum.  And then I blurted out, “when I come back on Thursday, would you like me to teach the lesson, so you can watch?” 

He said yes, of course.  So now I have to get ready to teach a first grade math lesson to a group of wiggly worms, and make it useful to their teacher, as well.  The good thing is that I had several of the kids in my class two years ago, and I know several more from all the time I spent in K last year as a mentor.

I’m kinda psyched.  I like a good challenge.

But…perhaps this wasn’t the best week to give up caffeine?

Remembering my priorities April 16, 2008

Today I spent 45 instructive minutes in a first grade classroom, helping with a writing assignment.  I moved around and helped several children, but mostly ended up at the end of one table with five delightful boys.  The assignment was to write about your favorite place, describing it using your senses — what does it smell like, feel like, taste like, sound like, look like?

B. got to work even before the teacher had finished giving directions, I noticed.  He clearly is a good reader, and a confident writer.  Meanwhile some other children were having a hard time even putting their names down — one boy had his head on the table in misery — so it was a while before I got down to B.’s end of the table to look at his writing.

Here’s what he wrote:

“My favorite place is [name of homeless shelter].  Because it’s good for me and my mom and my sister.  And they give us three meals a day.”

I don’t know B. at all, as he hasn’t been in the class long, and the last time I spent time there was 1st quarter.  I asked him if he would keep writing, but he refused.  I said, “But Mr. R. wants you to write about your senses.  What does it smell like?”  B. replied, “it smells really bad in there.  You wouldn’t want to smell it, no way.” 

“Well, what does the food taste like?”

“It’s nasty.”

“B., are you sure you want this to be your favorite place?” I asked.

B. pointed emphatically at his second sentence.  “They – give – us – three – meals – a – day,” he said, emphasizing each word.

I was silenced, thinking about a boy who feels so grateful to have three meals a day that his favorite place is the stinky shelter where he lives.

B. happily commenced drawing on the back of his page while I helped T., and chatted with the other three boys near him.  T. just started a month ago, too, but he never went to school before.  His parents never sent him to kindergarten, and did not enroll him in first grade until March.  He cannot read or write, and does not know the names of most letters.  He did not know how to write a capital T or capital I until I showed him.

Mr. R. told me that the parents said, by way of explanation, that he had been ”home helping out the family.”

But a sweeter boy would be hard to find.  “What’s your favorite place?” I asked, and T. replied, “Chuck E. Cheese.  I been there TWICE.”  I asked him to tell me each new sentence, and helped him to find the words on the class word list, or wrote them down for him to copy.  He worked really hard, with intense focus, looking at my words, and then copying them down neatly and in the right order.

The other three boys down by B. and T. were just as cute.  Each boy mysteriously decided that Chuck E. Cheese was his favorite place, too, and they argued vociferously about it while surreptitiously copying the words I had helped T. to write.

The five of them were amazed to learn that I happen to hate Chuck E. Cheese.  “It’s so noisy,” I said, “and the pizza doesn’t taste good, and the kids are all running around like wild.”

“Yeah, the kids go CRAZY,” grinned A.

It was a wonderful afternoon. 

I went to the grocery store with my sons after school and felt so grateful to have the money to buy bananas and bread and donuts and yogurt.