art show!

Yesterday was one of those days where I reflect on my job and think, “I do some pretty cool stuff with some talented little people.” Yesterday was the first annual art opening for our preschool classes.  Last summer, I read a great blog post from a teacher/blogger whom I follow quite closely.  Tom teaches at a cooperative preschool in the Seattle area, and he is an amazing writer who sums up his work with children so eloquently that I often just shake my head when I read his blog, wishing that I had written those words first.  So, when he wrote about having an art opening for his preschoolers, I knew it was something I wanted to try and something that my students would love.  We are lucky enough to have a family in our school that owns a small coffee shop in the heart of the Waldo neighborhood in Kansas City. One More Cup was a favorite hang out for me even before I knew that the Neffs owned it, and it’s the quintessential local business in my opinion. It is cozy and comfy and a favorite spot to curl up with a latte and a good book (Ha! You would think by reading this that I had actually done that. I’ve not, but I always look with envy on the people in there curled up reading…one day I’ll do it, too).  Yesterday, it was the perfect location to host dozens of family members and many, many little artists – at our first CECC art opening! 

 The idea began, like I said, with an idea from Teacher Tom, but it soon developed into something much more.  We are constantly doing artwork in our classrooms. Daily.  Using different mediums, working on different canvases, working alone or in groups. Artwork in the preschool classroom is something that we did every single day without thinking much of it aside from the esthetic quality…until this year.  This year, my friend and fellow preschool teacher Adriane and I began to dig deeper to find connections between the artwork that they did, and the development of the children. What we began to realize is that we weren’t giving the artwork enough credit for all the things it was teaching the children. Social skills, language and cognitive skills, math and science, measuring and exploring cause and effect, fine and gross motor development. This list could go on and could be much more detailed, but you get the point. The hard part wasn’t getting the children to participate in the artwork, it was making those connections between what we were doing and the importance of what the children were learning. Isn’t that always the hardest part for a teacher? 

 Yesterday was the culmination of a journey we began back in August, and it was so much fun to see how excited the children were to show off their work.  Giving the public the chance to meet the little artists was a success! I’m lucky to have Adriane to work with, as she feels as strongly about teaching as I do.  Teaching parents and the community about what we do in the preschool classroom. Teaching about all of the connections the children are making in their artwork. Teaching that more goes on in a preschool classroom than crayons and markers.  I don’t think Adriane and I ever thought about this journey as something new for the kids: rather that it might be new for the adults in those kids’ lives.  We thought about it in terms of how we might show the outside world how important this experience would be for a four year old. I think it was a success.

The CECC art will be available for viewing and purchase during the month of March at One More Cup (7408 Wornall Road, KCMO) come see it!

fart sandwiches.

So, I've not posted in so long that I forgot my password. Blogger kindly told me "you changed your password THREE months ago." Just like that.  Thanks, Blogger.  Life is insane here, and tonight I'm sitting in bed while my eldest child is laying on the floor next to me getting up to barf every few minutes.  I called this post 'fart sandwiches'. I usually say poop sandwiches when things suck, because you can really sink your teeth into a turd, but this is more elusive suckage. The barfing? Total shit - I'm going to let you in on a secret: I FUCKING hate barf. Hate it. I have anxiety about people getting sick. Seriously. I'm happy to say that today has taught me it doesn't matter at all - someone is always going to barf on your shoes in life.  Might as well be your cute kid. And, because there are a lot of other elusive suckage issues going on, I just thought I would share something I wrote for a class instead. 

I'll preface this by saying that I've been taking the world's worst internet class.  The professor has asked us to write 250 words weekly about articles or books she's asked us to read. Now, if you know me (and if you're reading this blog, chances are you know enough about me to believe this) I can't write 250 words. TWO HUNDRED FIFTY WORDS is for pussies.  It's like asking me to write 5 sentences about something that I could write a book about. And the worst part is that no matter how much I write (trust me: over 250 words. every. single. week) the professor has not ONCE given me personal feedback. Ever. Which simultaneously makes me want to punch her in the face and write like eight pages just to see if she's paying attention.  I digress. So, for the final project we were asked to write the usual 250 words about the "state of education" or what we as educators will find most challenging in our future.  Again.  Something I could write a book about.  But today, I read a friend's Facebook status that read something about getting her K-4th grader ready for college and I just had to share this. I figure if the dummy professor isn't reading it, I should at least share it with you all.

I seriously hope that none of you have a barfing child anytime soon.  And if you do, that you have a large amount of wine to fill up on while you're holding the hair out of the puke. I figure it's killing the germs...at least for me. Right? Enjoy:

I have started to write this for about three weeks in my head.  I start, think I know what I’m going to say, and then something else happens either in the media or in my job as a teacher to add fuel to my fire.  I believe that the biggest challenge that educators face is a generation of children who would like to be spoon-fed the answers, are not able to conceptualize, who get frustrated when asked to think critically, and many of whom are unable to make informed statements about anything they didn’t first hear from someone else.  In the past few weeks and months, I have had conversations with educators from all walks of life and from all different teaching backgrounds and sadly, I feel like we all say the same things – we are worried about kids. 

Naturally, we teach in a society where we are forced to think about funding and testing and all the other frustrations that those go along with, but while they are frustrations, they aren’t really all that new or different.  There is always, always going to be red tape in education.  Always.  It’s time to turn our focus toward something that we CAN fix.  Just today, I read about the number one worst baby toy in 2011 – an electronic device similar to an iPad.  For an infant.  And I wonder why children come into my preschool classroom and don’t know how to PLAY.  It’s been my experience over my ten years as a preschool teacher that children are more and more unable to be in open-ended play situations without being guided in some way or another.  I’m a preschool teacher and part of the joy of my job is that it’s so child driven.  I get to do what the kids want to do and make my lesson plans based on their interests.  Recently, though, I’ve noticed a trend toward more teacher led activities – because the children can’t seem to come up with ideas on their own.  When I ask, “what do you want to learn about?” I get blank stares. I want to say to them, “listen up! This is the last time it’s going to be like this – someone is going to get to tell you WHAT to learn for the rest of your life beyond this point!”  It’s sad and shocking and it’s no wonder these same children are failing in grade school and beyond. 

I believe it comes down to being an advocate for these children rather than trying to place blame.  It’s hard work, for sure, but it becomes an issue of advocating for play in early childhood classrooms (early childhood means up to and including the age of EIGHT) and for different approaches in teaching older students.  More play, less rote memorization. More writing, less homework.  More questioning their opinions, less teaching them to fill in the right answer.  While I know that I am starry eyed in some ways about this, I do believe that we can change the future of American education.  I’m not certain yet how that will be done, but I do know that I will be a part of that work in some capacity.

why I write

The National Day on Writing is on October 20th.  I wrote this in honor of that day.  You can read more about it here.

I write because if I didn’t, I would certainly not be here today. I write because it’s the best and cheapest form of therapy out there.  I write because I have something important to say, even if it’s something as simple as, “I’m angry”, or “I’m frustrated” or. “I’m so proud”.  I write because I don’t know how better to express myself, it’s the way I deal with the world around me.  I remember writing pages and pages of letters in high school, it’s probably the first time that I remember feeling like putting pen to paper would solve something.  I wrote to boyfriends, my parents, my friends.  I wrote to heal broken hearts, to soothe my angry soul, to process my parent’s divorce.  I wrote because I thought people might think me crazy if I told them aloud the things that went on in my head. Now, I don’t care what people think of me – I know I’m crazy.  But, now that I’m not an angsty teenager anymore (I’m more like an angsty adult) I still write to process things: my relationships, my marriage, my children, the path I’m on at any given moment. 

I write because one day I want my kids to look back and know that what they said and did mattered to me.  That I wrote down their experiences and I laughed with them and at them and I noticed all the little things that they did.  I write because earlier this week Lucy asked me why kids remember so much and grown ups don’t.  I told her it’s because adults have more years and more memories clogging their brains, but really I write so that I DON’T forget everything that happens – even the little, seemingly unimportant day to day things. 

I write because some days I think if I say the words out loud that I write down on paper, I might curl up and cry.  I write because I’m one of those people who look around me at the grocery store and thinks, “I’m the ONLY ONE who knows what I’m thinking right now.” I think about that a lot – how when I look over at my husband I only see what I see – I will never know what is going on in his head – even if I think I do.  It’s such a lonely thought and so I write because it keeps me from losing my mind.  I write because I’m so busy that writing seems a little like I’m talking to a friend – something I don’t get to do nearly enough anymore. I write because it’s in my DNA.  It’s in the very fiber of my being.  I write because I can't imagine what I would do if I couldn't.

I (still) do.

Today I made myself sit down and write about all the things that I’ve not let myself say in the past few months.  I knew this past weekend, on the eve of this 10^th anniversary of 9/11, that something was wrong with me.  I was entirely more concerned about the state of my family than I was about what that terrible day would bring.  I’m just going to say this: marriage is hard.  Of all the things I wish I had known before I entered into my own marriage – I wish someone had said, “Kate, one day you will wake up and you will find you have lost important connections with the person laying next to you.”  This is not a post about my marriage unraveling.  It’s not – and I assure you that, God forbid that ever happens, I will not be writing about it on my blog.  It’s a post to say, I get it now. I understand that no one tells you those things because if they did, no one would get married. Sort of like if people told you the truth about childbirth, there would be way less children in this world. 

I get it.  Lately, though, I’ve been thinking about marriage.  My own, my parents’, Steve’s parents, the upcoming nuptials of a friend, that of a good friend who is living here in KC while her husband is working in another city for a few months.  And I just need to put it out there that this life that Steve and I have created is the hardest job I’ve ever had.  Recently, I started back teaching after a summer off, I also started grad school, and Steve is still working full time as well as teaching two nights a week at the KC Art Institute.  We also have a home we try to maintain, two young children, a dog…you get the picture. We hardly see each other, and lately we’ve not been very good at making all of the pieces fit in this difficult daily puzzle of our lives.  It’s like you think everything is running smoothly, or at least is at status quo, until reality tells you differently. 

One of the reasons I fell in love with Steve is that, while it might not happen all that often, he has the ability put it all out on the table and let you know how he feels.  I suck at that.  I will bottle up how I feel and get resentful and mean and ugly until I finally blow up.  It’s not a healthy way to live – and it’s not a healthy way to have a relationship.  I’m also really lazy. I’m not going to lie, I am super, super, way lazy – I would rather sit on my ass or keep to myself than do the hard work – including relationship work.  It’s hard to find time to compliment my husband – even if I DO love him and I DO appreciate him, finding times to tell him that is not my strong point.  It goes both ways, for sure, but at the end of the day when people have NEEDED stuff from me all day long, the last thing I think about doing is laying on the compliments.  I would much rather lay on the couch.

I'll also say selfishly that I pretty much hate keeping this house together while other people get to reap the benefits of being with my family - the babysitters, the teachers, the people my husband works with.  I feel like for all the driving, cooking, cleaning, laundry, general problem solving I do, I should get to enjoy the reward of being with my family, but right now, in this time - that just isn't happening.  Instead, other people get to enjoy the energy of my kids and my husband while at the end of each day, my kids are either already in bed when I get home from school, or Steve and I get to do the catch up game instead of really enjoying each other's company.  I hate that other people are getting the best of us, but I digress.

My point is that I’m trying to hold myself more accountable for doing the hard work.   I’m putting out there that I know my married friends are doing the same hard work that we are doing here and I respect you all immensely for it.  I’m not saying that there aren’t amazing things about my marriage – I love the life we have made with each other and with our children.  We started a relationship built upon laughter and we continue to do a lot of that – we are raising two amazing, hilarious little girls, and I think all things considered we do a pretty great job of it.  I also know that the rat race we are in right now is temporary and one day I'm sure I'll miss the hustle and bustle (to an extent!)  I just feel like people don’t like to talk about this and it’s been bothering me. So there. I said it for you.  You’re welcome.  Also, I should probably apologize for throwing my husband under the bus in order to prove my point.  So…I’m sorry, Steve.  See ya tomorrow!

oh, paper. I'm so sorry.

My inlaws recently gave us a gift.  One that I, admittedly, was uncomfortable with.  They gave us a brand new iPad…and even though I fought it, I do love it.  I’m still trying to figure it all out, but I have a confession to make: I downloaded some books. To read.  On iBooks.  There. I said it.  I am reading a book right now on a digital device.  Just typing that makes me feel dirty and scandalous.

I couldn’t help but to see what it was all about.  Really, can you blame me?!  I will say that I feel like I’m having a bit of a tryst.  Maybe more of a ménage trois?  I’m torn.  I love books: the smell of books, the feel of a good heavy book in my hands – the excitement of buying a new book and cracking the spine.  I know. I’m a complete dork, but whatever.  Reading a book on an iPad is just weird.  There is really no other way to describe it – using the touch screen to turn the page seems wrong, but it’s also so easy.  And, I can hardly wait to get to the beach and have not just the three heavy books I will STILL tote with me, but also the 15 others that I’ve downloaded onto the iPad.  You know, just in case I can’t pick the right one to pack.

I know I wrote this about digital readers, but I guess I’m growing and changing with time.  Or else, I’ve just lost my mind.  Either is possible…I’ll keep you posted.

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?

look at me learnin' on a weekend...

Yesterday I attended Faces of Learning Kansas City, which was a coming together of educators and concerned citizens to talk about how we learn. Essentially, it was a discussion of how we might change what learning looks like in our city and across the country.  Faces of Learning is the brainchild of my new friend Sam Chaltain, and Sam traveled to Kansas City yesterday to have a community conversation about learning.  I am sure to sell the idea behind this campaign short, so I completely suggest going to Sam’s website to check it out for yourself.  What I will say is this: the idea that the best learning comes from the inside isn’t rocket science.  It’s not even a new theory.  We must consider HOW we learn and what the ideal learning environments might look like.  It should be what school districts from San Diego to Boston and Minneapolis to Dallas are asking of their students and what we are asking pre-service teachers to consider before they ever step foot into a classroom.

We talked yesterday about what learning looked like for each of us.  How my friend Steve discovered his potential for learning and pushing himself when he was faced with the daunting task of teaching a chemistry lab in college.  Steve is now a high school English teacher, and while he is certainly, among other things, the most organized person I know, he’s no chemist.  Sorry, Steve. He spoke about how that challenging experience led him to see himself as a teacher.  Laurie talked about being a teacher in Los Angeles and how she was constantly told what she could and couldn’t do by the administration – and in effect, how that changed her teaching and her learning.  Maggie talked about what she has learned about herself and about learning environments by being in charge of student teachers in early childhood classrooms all over Kansas City. 

I tend to learn like a four-year-old learns.  Perhaps it’s the hours I’ve spent on the floor with four-year-olds in my own classroom, but I need to be hands-on with learning.  Whether I’m learning something about technology (did I tell you I’m on the tech team?) or about cooking, I’m not absorbing anything unless I am getting my hands dirty, so to speak.  My best learning comes when I’m pushed to question everything – to wonder about things and to make connections with like-minded people.  Yesterday, I recalled being a 14-year-old and spending three weeks of my summer at what is now Truman State University in Kirksville, Missouri.  I was a part of the Joseph BaldwinAcademy, and that summer and the one after it was spent taking college level classes with about seventy of my peers.  Not only was it the first time I was away from my family – how grown up of me – it was the first time I was truly challenged to think outside of the box.  AND, it was the first time I was with a group of kids who weren’t judging me for wanting to learn.  At JBA learning was cool, and I still get that giddy, excited feeling when I surround myself with people who are excited about learning, just like I did yesterday.

What struck me about the conversation we had yesterday is that it shouldn’t be so difficult to ask teachers in Kansas City to consider how they learn and what the ideal learning environment might be.  Imagine what it would look like if teachers considered the immense diversity in learning patterns in their classrooms.  In a city where our public schools are not something we are bragging about, we should be taking ALL of these things into consideration.  This conversation about learning needs to continue in our schools, in our churches, and in our communities. 

I really don’t want to get into education reform.  I am lucky enough, for now, to be (as a teacher) relatively unaffected by the way our government handles education.  I also know that once I start writing about it, I might not stop – so I will spare you my thoughts.  I will just say that I walked out of that conversation – which continued, over hot wings and beer, I might add, with some of the most amazing teachers I know in this city – and I was excited about what the future of education and learning in Kansas City might look like.  Not only am I a teacher, I am a mother of two beautiful girls who I believe deserve only the most amazing opportunities when it comes to learning.  I believe we owe it to our children to continue these conversations, and we mustn’t stop until we are truly satisfied with what we see happening in our schools.

**if you're interested locally in KC in joining this conversation, please take a look at this

**you can also get more information here