the power of play

I’m writing this while sitting on a flight from Minneapolis to Kansas City.  Earlier tonight, my mother-in-law asked me if I enjoy traveling alone. I do.  A lot. Part of it is the tiny break from the day-to-day madness of having two kids under six. Part of it is exploring somewhere new. And part of it is simply remembering what it was like before I had people who depended on me for everything.  I’m not writing about some wonderful self-discovery here, I just think traveling alone is a rare treat for me, and this weekend I got to do just that when I flew to Rochester, NY, for a quick weekend with my Aunt Karen and her family.

During the weekend, Karen and I drove to New Paltz, NY, which lies on the Hudson River about an hour and a half outside of New York City.  It’s a beautiful area, truly, with mountains and the Hudson River and the Erie Canal, and all of these tiny towns tucked into the scenery.  I attended a workshop put on by the Hudson Valley Writing Project in New Paltz.  Yep, this could totally be yet another love letter to the National Writing Project and all of its local sites, but I will spare you that. Again.  You’re welcome.  This weekend I got to spend time with early childhood educators and it was fantastic. The best part? Meeting 80-year-old Deborah Meier and getting to listen to her talk about her experiences and stories. 

Deborah is many things: first and foremost a teacher, she has opened schools, she is a public advocate for education and education reform. A mutual friend called her, “...a piston. One of our true legends in the field.”   She truly should be an inspiration to educators everywhere.  She spent a lot of time this weekend talking about how schools in the United States spend an inordinate amount of time teaching kids the right answers.  I wanted to jump up and clap when I heard this, because I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the current state of our education system and particularly about how schools are no longer teaching or empowering students to think critically…about much of anything. 

We talked about the power of play in early childhood classrooms and about how when children learn to play, they in turn learn to think.  Ok, really, I could write a book about that last sentence – I’m REALLY dumbing that down for the sake of time and space and not boring you.  We talked about how many kindergarten teachers these days are encountering children in their classrooms who have no idea how to play.  Teachers are having to model play in classrooms because these children aren’t playing at home, and the early childhood programs they may have attended are doing away with play in favor of more "concrete" learning.  Can you believe that?  It’s terribly sad to me.

One of my favorite quotes from Deborah this weekend was “children know how to play until we teach them not to.”  Like I said, I could go on and on and on about my feelings on this subject, but mostly I wanted whomever might read this to simply think about it.  How did you play as a child?  What did you pretend to be?  Do (or did?) your children play?  How are you embracing and encouraging the play that is happening in your home?  Yes, that’s right, I said encouraging play.  Do it.

Right now I’m reading A Child’s Work, the Importance of Fantasy Play by Vivian Gussin Paley, a book I picked up this weekend.  I’m sure that I will have plenty more to say about this book as well, but I just wanted to present the idea of play to you. In a time where schools, particularly early childhood programs, are doing away with play, and turning preschool curriculum into sit-at-a-desk-and-learn school school, I think it’s super important to look at WHY play is so important for children.  I can’t tell you how nice it was this weekend to sit with a group of smart early childhood educators who agree with this stuff – it’s proof to me that we are going to do something to change the way things are going in early childhood education…one superhero or princess at a time.

reflecting.

Last year during my annual review and conference with my bosses, I walked in and cried.  Literally, I walked in the door, sat down and started bawling.  I was pissed, and hurt, and frankly, done with teaching.  Honestly, I felt like I had sacrificed an entire year of teaching for nothing – and it had sucked.  I didn’t expect to cry.  I really didn’t even know what I was going to say.  Maybe, “I quit”?  I’m so glad I didn’t.

Last summer, as everyone knows, because I talk about it any chance I get, I was a fellow in the Greater Kansas City Writing Project’s summer institute.  It was, quite literally, what saved me as a teacher.  I left the SI and went back to the preschool classroom determined to give early childhood education one more chance.  I was determined to harness all the creativity and the strength and the validation I got from the GKCWP summer institute and put it to good use in my classroom. 

I am telling this story because I just sat down last night to fill out my self-evaluation for this year’s annual review.  I’m happy to say that there will be no tears at this review…at least sad ones.  This year has been amazing.  And, I teach preschool…I have stories upon stories of things that have happened this year that weren’t amazing, but those stories are nothing in light of all of the good things that happened in my class this year.

Last summer’s self-reflection taught me that I owe it to everyone to stand back and let children learn without my guiding every single moment.  I’ll add my own little caveat here: I don’t do this as often as I should in my own home.  I don’t know if it’s because I have control issues with my own kids, or if sometimes, at the end of a long day with other people’s children, I just need things to go my way?  I’m not certain. But I will say that the Dinosaur kids have had some pretty amazing experiences this year.  I’m guessing most parents will rank field trips and special visitors as the top “amazing experiences” but I’d like to tell you what I think was amazing, if I may…so here’s a list, in no particular order:

We created jobs and each chose one daily.  We made a “helpfulness board” and our “kindness catcher” watched for kind acts that we documented and posted on our bulletin board.  We baked and cooked and ate lots of new and different foods. We were the authors and illustrators of our OWN stories – and we know what the authors and an illustrators actually do (!!!!)  We grew vegetables and plants and flowers.  We hatched chicks. Out of eggs!  We watched caterpillars turn into chrysalis and then butterflies and we set them free. We learned how to have gentle hands and also how to tell our friends about our feelings.  We learned when we need some “safe” time…if only everyone would recognize when they need those moments!  We painted with all sorts of different mediums.  We wrote in journals, we drew with crayons, pencils and markers.  We scooped and shoveled, and dug and sorted and counted and patterned.  We passed out lunches to each other.  We learned to sit in a circle and listen to a story together and how to guess what the story might be about and even what might happen next.  We were really LOUD some days, and other days we needed things to be quiet. We taught a teacher, who was thinking this might not be her calling, to hang in there and to absolutely LOVE what she does.

I’m not certain what the future holds for me, but this class of kids has encouraged me to be my best: every. single. day. And not maybe the best I could be, but at least the best I could be for that day, for that child.  And, really? Isn’t that what early childhood education is all about?

save the NWP

On March 2, all direct funding to the National Writing Project (NWP) was eliminated as part of a Congressional effort to eliminate earmarks – federal funds legislated to support certain programs like the NWP.  As a result, Congress has eliminated a program proven to strengthen both teaching and student writing.  According to Sharon J. Washington, executive director of the NWP, “This decision puts in grave jeopardy a nationwide network of 70,000 teachers who, through 200 university-based Writing Project sites, provide local leadership for innovation and deliver localized, high-quality professional development to other educators across the country in all states, across subjects and grades. In the last year alone, these leaders provided services to over 3,000 school districts to raise student achievement in writing.”

I could give more examples, but I would be remiss if I didn’t just tell you personally how much I think this stinks.  I was part of the Greater Kansas City Writing Project’s Summer Institute in 2010, and it was hands down the BEST professional development experience I’ve ever had. No, let me rephrase that: it was also just one of the best all around experiences I’ve had in general.  Period.  I’m a preschool teacher with an English degree.  I had been taking education classes so that after my own young children went to school, I could teach English at the high school level.  I love my job as a preschool teacher, but often felt like I wasn’t using my English degree to its full potential, and as a result, was feeling lost as to where I was heading professionally.  Before I attended the 2010 SI, I was dreading going back to my education classes – I was torn because I love working with young children but thought I should be doing more with my expensive undergraduate degree! I entered the 2010 SI thinking I would use whatever I gained from the experience later on as a high school teacher.  I could not have been more wrong.

What I gained during the 2010 SI can’t easily be summed up on paper.  I walked in on the first day of the SI not knowing if I even wanted to teach anymore and specifically not knowing what, if anything, I could contribute to the group of talented, smart and funny teachers from all over the city.  I walked out of there four weeks later knowing I’m doing the right thing, knowing that it’s good and normal to question my motives and my practice, knowing that my very best wondering comes from my wandering. 

In the SI, I was allowed to think, to listen, and to reflect.  I often wonder what schools in this country would look like if ALL teachers got this kind of opportunity.  How often, in the hustle and bustle of day to day teaching, do teachers get opportunities for reflecting on their teaching practice?  Part of the beauty of the NWP is that local sites are connected on so many levels.  Thanks to the NWP, I have had opportunities to meet teachers from across my state and from across the country.  I have gained ideas and had the chance to collaborate with people I would never have met before last summer.  I have absolutely become a better teacher, and yes, a better preschool teacher, because of the NWP. 

We wouldn’t expect a runner to go into a marathon having never trained properly, just as we can’t expect to win any educational “race” if we are not giving teachers opportunities for the best training skills.  How can we expect teachers to do their best work in and out of the classroom if the opportunity to participate in programs like the NWP is eliminated?  We must support ongoing teacher training and therefore better student achievement.  We must continue to support the National Writing Project.