Yesterday, I caught Sue Dunlop‘s tweeted challenge in response to Donna’s Fry‘s recent blog post.

I knew that I needed to update my “one word” post, as so much of what I’ve done this year has revolved around this word: being uncomfortable. I just did a search on my professional blog for the word “uncomfortable,” and since writing my blog post on December 31st, I have three pages of blog posts all connected to this single word. Looking back at these blog posts, I realized that I’ve been uncomfortable …

• in my classroom practices.
• in my reflections and goal-setting.
• in my interactions with colleagues.
• in many different choices that I made this year.

Maybe my biggest “uncomfortable” challenge is what I have in store for next year: teaching Senior Kindergarten. It’s not about the grade choice. I’ve taught this grade many times before, and absolutely loved it. But the challenges are,

• teaching this grade with a new Program Document than we had before. I say that I’ve taught Kindergarten for eight years before, and I have, but never with this new document. While I sat on an advisory committee for the document, and I’ve read it many times before and know the thinking behind it, I haven’t experienced this thinking in practice with four- and five-year-olds. Six years ago, I left Kindergarten because I didn’t agree with the philosophy behind the Full-Day Kindergarten Program. My thinking has changed since then, but as September comes closer, I’m getting scared. What if everything I believe in theory, doesn’t work in practice? How can I stay true to the document, while also addressing the diverse needs of our learners?
• teaching this grade in a school with many different student needs. Last year, I started teaching at a different school. It’s an incredible school with a very diverse student population. Poverty remains an issue down in the area where I teach. For many students, English is also their second language, and this may be the first year that some of our Kindergarten students are learning English. I keep thinking back to a comment that a previous Early Years Consultant made at the time when I last taught Kindergarten: “We don’t withdraw students for support in Kindergarten because the Kindergarten classroom is the ideal place for English Language Learners. There is so much of the oral language that they need.” I understand and agree with this statement. I’m a big believer that all students can learn, and with the right supports in place, can meet with success. What if I’m wrong? If the students don’t make enough academic gains, will people start questioning the Kindergarten program? Will I? How long do we wait for growth to occur before making changes to approaches?
• sharing a classroom with somebody else. My partner for next year is fantastic, and we’ve already had so many great conversations on classroom set-up, programming, and pedagogy, but for 14 years, I’ve been used to largely planning alone. Now the “I” is becoming “we,” and this is both exciting and scary. How do we continue to develop this strong partnership? If/when disagreements occur, how might we go about solving them? What have others done before?

All of these challenges, while connected to being uncomfortable, are making me think that it might be time to update my “one word.” I know that this was a year-long challenge, but in teaching, the new year starts in September, and I wonder if this is when my word also needs to change. I really think that success for this upcoming year is going to come down to listening. I’d like to think that I’m a good listener. I do watch and listen to people often, but …

• how often do I “listen” with what I think the answer is already in my head?
• how often do I “listen” just for the purpose of responding?
• how often do I “listen” just to give myself time to think about what I want to say next?
• how often do I “listen” and interject prematurely?
• how often do I “listen” and nod along, but not really “hear” anything at all?
• how often do I “listen,” comment, and question, but forget about the wait-time that students and adults may need?

If I can become a better listener, I’ll be able to find out,

• what students know.
• what students want to learn about.
• what students struggle with, and how I might be able to help.
• how students communicate (with me and with each other) regardless of the language that they’re using at the time.
• how students solve problems, and what they do if/when they can’t solve them.
• what my teaching partner thinks and believes.
• issues/concerns that my teaching partner may have, and how she would like to solve them.

From listening comes next steps, growth, and learning … for both children and adults. As the new school year approaches, I’m going to “get uncomfortable” again as I focus on how to become a better listener for myself, my teaching partner, and my students. What impact has your “one word” had on your practices this year? Will you continue with your current word until the end of December, or will September bring a shift for you? Why? I’d love to hear your response to this updated one word challenge!

Aviva

Last week, I got involved in a Twitter conversation with David Benay, Stephen Hurley, Andrew Campbell, and Brian Aspinall. The conversation started because of some tweets shared from the Self-Regulation Symposium (#selfreg2015), but as you can see in my Storify Story, it definitely evolved from there.

While reading the comments from David, Stephen, Andrew, and Brian, I came to a conclusion that started to make me feel very uncomfortable: maybe I’ve been looking at the Learning Skills all wrong. Since Friday morning, I’ve been thinking back to comments and marks that I’ve put on the report cards for Learning Skills, and wishing that I could have a “do over.” Why? Because when I’ve evaluated Learning Skills, I think that my definition of success is too narrow, when students might actually be meeting these expectations in many different ways. 

Let me think back …

• If students need to move around or fidget with objects in order to participate in group discussions, are they still self-regulating?
• If class discussions are too much for students to handle, and they can recognize this in themselves and come up with alternative options for these times, what mark do they deserve for self-regulation?
• If students can quietly engage with their peers while working independently, how do I perceive their independent work?
• If large groups overwhelm students, but they can collaborate well in groups of two or three, what “value” do I give to collaboration?
• If organizing paper is too much for students, but they can organize their ideas and assignments on a tablet or computer, are they getting evaluated lower on organizational skills? Am I giving students opportunities to choose the way in which to organize their work, or am I enforcing a system that may not work for everyone? Am I being hypocritical knowing that the traditional systems of organization do not work for me?
• If I’m asking students to take responsibility and show initiative in the classroom, what opportunities am I giving them to do so? If they take initiative, but extend learning in a way that I don’t want, are their marks reflecting this? Is this fair?

I wish that I thought of these questions before now, because maybe then, I would have done things differently than I did in the past. While I’d like to think that I always look for ways to meet individual student needs, I don’t know that I always consider these different needs when it comes to Learning Skills. I am now going to change!

Educational Twitter chats and numerous blog posts talk about the need to change the classroom learning environment. There are lots of discussions on Project-Based Learning, Inquiry, and Game-Based Learning. While we talk about the impact that these approaches have on academic learning, what impact do they have on Learning Skills? How might changing viewpoints on Learning Skills change the classroom and school environment? Are we ready for this change? Before, the marks for Learning Skills never really bothered me as much as the grades in subject areas. Now I question more what these different levels may look like, and if marking Learning Skills is just perpetuating a system where there is one view of success. What do you think?

Aviva

Earlier this week, I read a fantastic blog post by a fellow Kindergarten teacher, Anamaria Ralph. In her post, she discusses the flow of the day, with some very detailed explanations behind the different components. Anamaria references a resource, Working In The Reggio Way, that asks important questions to help with determining the daily routine.

I decided to make Wurm’s book my first professional read of the summer, and I’m so glad that I did. This book has made me do a lot of thinking and develop many talking points to explore with my partner before September.

When I look back over the notes that I made and the questions that I asked, one important word came to mind: observation. Before worrying about what we say or do, we need to sit back, watch, and listen. I used to think that I did both, but now I’m not so sure. 

• I watched students, but did I already assume how they would behave, and were my opinions clouded by my assumptions?
• I listened to students, but did I only listen with a single expectation in mind? Did I listen closely to everything else that they shared — or didn’t share — and did I use this information to think ahead for programming options?

My first a-ha moment came when the author discussed the use of a bathroom as a learning space. She mentioned ideas that I had never really thought about before, but made so much sense. The classroom teachers in this Reggio environment even developed their own professional inquiry based on the use of this bathroom space. Amazing! How did they get to this point? They watched and listened to students. They saw the social interaction that happens in a washroom, and they decided to re-think the possible use of this space. (Now our classroom bathroom is just one small room with a toilet and a sink, so what these teachers did may not work for us, but I still can’t help but wonder what may.) The quality observation that happened in this case, and in so many other cases in the book, made me think about the time needed to observe. 

I am left wondering …

• How much time is spent watching children versus how much time is spent talking and working with children?
• How many children were in these classrooms? Do numbers play a role in how we observe and what we observe?
• With a large number of students that have English as their second language, how can we scaffold the language for them and still spend the quality time watching their interactions?
• When do we act on our observations? Wurm’s book discusses the importance of “wait time” and wait time that is much longer than what we may be accustomed to (stretching on for even days, weeks, or months at a time). With this wait time in mind, how do we know when to act and when to just continue observing?

Wurm really emphasizes the importance of small changes. She thinks it’s valuable to make one or two changes, observe what happens, and make other changes based on these observations. This will be hard for me. I’m comfortable with change, and I tend to make changes regularly and quickly. I’m going to need to slow down. But how slow do we go? In a school and Board environment where “meeting benchmarks” is important, how do we take the time needed to make positive changes, while still helping our students get to where they need (or maybe it’s where we want them) to be? I think that this summer read will lead to many interesting conversations in the coming months. I’d love to hear more about your thoughts and experiences as I continue to consider the Reggio way.

Aviva