The Making of Problem Solvers

Ahh, the weekend…after exploring fantastical literary worlds for five days with old ladies swallowing flies, purple crayon drawn hot air balloons, and wild things at every corner, I get to delve into my weekly collection of non-fiction, “adult” content at a local café.

As I briefly step away from my pre-k teacher mentality to reflect on the latest 2008 presidential contender or the Ethiopian presence in Somalia, I consider one unifying theme in each of the articles: problems.  Regardless of your political affiliation, job sector, or daily blogger of choice, it is clear that current and future generations face a wide range of political, economic, social, and technological problems.  So what are we doing in Pre-k 114 to provide our society with proactive problem solvers?

One, we are creating a problem-solving culture in the classroom.  Whether the problem is spilled milk, a friend crying, or someone saying they “can’t” do something, we respond with efforts to fix the problem.  Initially, the children said, “ooooooh” and pointed instead.  We then showed puppets in similar situations, brainstormed with the children about how to fix problems, and adopted the phrase, “We don’t say ‘oooh,’ we fix the problem.”

We also don’t give up.  We learned from the Little Engine to keep chugging while saying, “I think I can” and asking for help from our peers.  We receive positive recognition for going out of our way to help others fix problems.  Students who got to purple last week included David and Tanasia for helping each other fold up their blankets after naptime, Awana for assisting Tyrone with his spilled juice, and Kevin for comforting Karen when she was upset.

A second step is to foster critical thinking skills.  Like my favorite adult publications, children’s literature is filled with characters that have problems.  We use these scenarios as a starting point for thinking about ways to solve problems.  Here is an excerpt from a problem solving discussion we had last Friday over breakfast, as we looked at a picture of Jack (of “Jack Be Nimble” fame) jumping over the candlestick. 

Ms. Pappas: What’s the problem?
Sierra: His pants could catch on fire. 
Ms. Pappas: So what should he do?
Sierra: Call 911 to put the fire out.
Ms. Pappas: Great idea.  What if he doesn’t have a phone?
Tyrique: I could put his foot in the sink.
Ms. Pappas: Excellent idea.  What if the sink in his house doesn’t work?
Tyrone: I could take him to your house and put his foot in the toilet.
Ms. Pappas: How will you get to my house?
Tyrone: I will take a cab.
Ms. Pappas: What if I’m not home?
Ravon: He could take Jack to the supermarket for some water.
Awana: No, he not going to be on fire.  He jumped over the candle.  He was quick.

Reflections on Batman and the Madame Speaker

“Girls can’t be line managers, only boys.”

“Ms. Pappas, he called me a girl!”

“Ms. Pappas, can my mommy be mayor too?” 

“I don’t watch Batman.  That’s for boys.” 

A few times per week I hear my students make comments or ask questions related to gender.  They are aware that some of us are girls, some of us are boys, and, depending on lessons taught at home and through the media, they bring certain preconceived notions about gender differences to the classroom. 

While he could not clearly articulate the rationale behind his feelings, the boy who angrily approached me after being called a girl clearly felt insulted.  And the boy who declared that girls could not be line managers used a matter of fact tone that alarmed me. 

As I reflected on these beginning sessions of Gender 101, I was, coincidentally, watching the unprecedented introduction of President Bush to “Madame” Speaker Pelosi at this week’s State of the Union address.  I kept wondering, did a four year old Nancy ever have to struggle to gain a voice in heated debates over who would control the sandbox on the playground?  What role, if any, did her teachers play in convincing her that she has just as much a right as young George, Dennis, or Harry to participate actively in decision making processes?

I consider it my responsibility to treat every child with dignity and respect and to teach my students to treat each other the same way.  That teaching requires engaging students in a dialogue that fosters a deep and rational understanding of why discrimination of any kind does not make sense and is harmful.  I consequently seek to challenge my students with responses that make them think about their developing views on gender. 

In the case of the “he called me a girl” comment, I used a neutral tone and said something like, “Okay, are you a girl?  No? So just let him know that and move on.”  In terms of the Batman remark, I said, “Well, I’m a girl and I love Batman.  I love how he uses a rope to jump off of tall buildings and save people.  Is that okay?  What would you do if you were a superhero?”  The mayor comment came up during last year’s mayoral elections when the students were able to “write-in” someone they thought would do a great job leading the city.  None of the official candidates were women, and many of the students nominated their dads or uncles.  We responded to the “mommy nomination” with a conversation about what it takes to be a good mayor and why mommies, daddies, uncles, aunts, grandmothers, or grandfathers could get the job done. 

What happens when a teacher’s views on gender clash with those of families?  I have seen plenty of family members scold their children for choosing items from our “Treasure Chest” that they claim aren’t “suitable” for either boys or girls.  I have not confronted the families about my own views nor have any family members asked that I limit the choices available to their children.  I am curious to know more about your thoughts on the role of pre-k teachers in addressing gender and other issues relating to diversity.  Should there, for instance, be explicit conversations with family members even if family members have not openly confronted you?    

Home-School Disconnection

From high attendance at special events to an open and inviting dialogue at one-on-one conferences, my relationships with students’ families this year have been both positive and strong.  That is until last Thursday. 

As I welcomed one of my students and his grandmother with my usual energetic greeting, bright and early during the before school program, the grandmother abruptly cut me off with sharp and heated criticism of the homework assignments I have sent home.  She wanted to know when I would be sending home “letter work,” like she has seen in “all the daycare centers.”  She has become weary of the open-ended assignments, which often include searching for letters around the house on food containers and in magazines or having the child tell a story with pictures and then dictate the story to an adult.   

Her bottom line was this: She wants dittos.  There, I said it, the “d” word, dreaded among early childhood experts. Like them, I advocate a different “d” approach, one that is perhaps the anti-thesis of the malignant ditto: “Developmentally Appropriate Practices.”  She then went on to critique my teaching of her grandson during the day, arguing that I wasn’t “teaching him his letters” and that she would instead have “to buy some workbooks for him to use at home.” 

As a pre-k teacher striving to meet my class's developmental needs, I provide my students with plenty of opportunities to learn through hands on experiences that are meaningful to them.  If the sand table particularly interests her grandson, he will find plenty of letter tools to explore the alphabet in the sand.  If he chooses to pretend he is a doctor in the Dramatic Play Area, we will surely learn about letters and, perhaps equally as important, why we use them, as he writes down his patient’s diagnosis and prescription.  I also supplement this experiential learning with various letter songs and games. 

I, therefore, started to wonder how pages of letter matching and tracing activities would help lay a strong foundation in early literacy for her grandson.  To top it off, her grandson actually knows all of his letters and the letter sounds.  We are currently working on sounding out and writing words.  When I tried to explain my strategies and her grandson’s progress, she just replied, “I don’t want to hear it.  I know all about it, learning through play.  I don’t want to hear it.”  She then proceeded to storm out, leaving me feeling puzzled, powerless, and, quite frankly, nauseous. 

It is now January.  I have had one formal one-on-one conference with her and several informal conversations at our special events.  She has never once mentioned any concern about our work.  I am not sure what exactly prompted the negative exchange, but I do know that our relationship has been damaged.  I suppose I could treat her comments as an irrational rant, and just keep doing what I am doing.  But as a teacher, I serve my students and their families.  If there is a conflict, it is my responsibility as the classroom leader to think objectively about how best to handle the situation.   

I have decided to provide her and the rest of my students’ family members with a list of ways we teach letters and letter sounds in the classroom.  I look forward to hearing her response.      

Which Came First, the Assessment or the Children?

Ravon: Ms. Pappas, look, I found the word calcium on my milk.

Ms. Pappas: Wow!  Great job, Ravon.  How do you know it says calcium?

Ravon: Because I see the letter “C” with the other words like “cat” and “car.”

At this moment, I am thinking three things:

1. I am so proud of Ravon;
2. How fast can I write down exactly what he said on my clipboard, so I can use this exchange as evidence of his growth in early literacy?; and
3. How will I ever balance active teacher-student engagement with anecdotal note taking if the school district requires me to collect anecdotes on another 50 skills for still another assessment system?

While I appreciate the value of performance-based assessments in helping me target individual student needs, I also sometimes wonder if a drive to make assessment as comprehensive and in-depth as possible comes at the expense of quality teacher-student interaction.  I am not sure if state and district policymakers realize what their mandates look like on a day-to-day basis at the school level.

In my school, we now have four types of assessment, soon to be joined by a fifth:

1. The Early Learning Assessment System (ELAS) – a state mandated performance-based literacy assessment charting student growth in six areas.  Reported three times per year.
2. A district mandated checklist charting growth in the areas of social emotional, gross motor, and fine motor development.  Recorded twice per year.
3. A district mandated beginning of the year Brigance Screening used mainly to identify any developmental delays.
4. Math checklists from the district mandated math curriculum charting growth in various skill areas. Recorded three times per year (recommended but not required).

Recently, the pre-k teachers in the district had a workshop on Creative Curriculum’s comprehensive performance-based assessment, which covers 50 skills and is recorded three times per year.  I personally like Creative Curriculum’s assessment the most and hope the district will replace other assessments with it.  All signs, however, suggest the district will make it supplemental and, therefore, probably more cumbersome than helpful, despite its potential to hone in on a wide range of student needs.

I would love to hear about teachers’ and administrators’ experiences in other states and school districts - just post a comment and we can compare and discuss.

Calling All High Quality Pre-k Teachers

The U.S. Department of Ed is currently seeking nominations for a prestigious teaching award: American Stars of Teaching.  The major criteria include educators

“with a track record of improving student achievement, using innovative instructional strategies, and making a difference in the lives of their students." 

I encourage you to nominate a pre-k teacher you know with these qualifications.  Efforts to showcase such qualities in pre-k classrooms would underscore the high level of professionalism needed to maintain high quality early childhood programs.   

Out of her Shell

“Hello, my name is Tanasia Britch from Pre-k 114.  We will now sing Dr. King,”

Tanasia exclaimed loud and clear for everyone, grades pre-k through two, to hear.

She did it!  After a tough transition in the beginning of the year, Tanasia slowly began to participate in classroom activities without much encouragement from me or her peers.  Moreover, rather than repeatedly crying and inquiring about the time of her mother’s return, she now focuses on a wide range of subjects including bears and cars.  The more she shares with us in terms of her thoughts and interests, the better able I am to chart her academic growth.  Her gradual progress culminated in her widely acclaimed introduction of our class performance during the school assembly commemorating the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Her other accomplishments during the past two weeks include:

1. Counting each of her friends for snack time in a clear and loud voice without skipping anyone;
2. Identifying and chanting out the letters in the word "like" in our modeled morning message for the first time; and
3. Choosing to read books to and with her friends rather than reading alone.  Tanasia even encouraged her friend to read with her when she saw her friend crying.

As I reflect on her growth, I consider two major reasons for Ms. Morrison’s and my success with Tanasia:

1. Student-Driven Instruction: We took the time to understand Tanasia's interests and provided opportunities for her to talk about and make things for her family.  Our discussions at the rug, during lunch, and at choice time included plenty of open-ended questions which allowed Tanasia to speak openly about what was on her mind: her sisters, mother, father, and auntie.  If the mouse ate cookies and asked for some milk, we learned about how happy Tanasia feels when she eats cookies and drinks milk with her sister at home.  In addition, while Tanasia first hesitated to join her friends during choice time, she began to gravitate towards the Art and Writing areas once she learned that she could take home her finished products.  Tanasia may have been physically separated from her family, but since she had the chance to talk about and make things for her siblings and parents, she still felt connected to them while in school; and
   
2. Classroom Culture of High Expectations: We consistently responded to Tanasia’s crying with the expectation that she would eventually become more of an active and enthusiastic member of our classroom community.  Rather than excuse her from class activities or call her family to pick her up, we taught her all of the routines and rules like the rest of the children.  If she needed to cry when she first came in, she could, but she still needed to unpack, put her Math Homelink journal in the bin, wash her hands, and get her own breakfast.

The Rehabilitation of an Anti-Sharer

“And chances are if the mouse asks for a glass of milk, he’s going to want a cookie to go with it.”

Ahh, the end of story time, right after lunch and before nap-time…a time when most of the children are relaxing, flirting with the decision to crash prematurely on the rug before retiring to the comfort of their individual mats, or contemplating the complexities highlighted in the literary masterpiece just presented to them, in this case the enigmatic cyclical nature of Laura Numeroff’s classic, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

Yet, for Kevin, this point in the day used to be filled will anxiety, frustration, and sometimes pure anger if he was not chosen to help me pass out the mats.  Not anymore.

Unlike the other children, our key phrase –“Oh well, I’ll get picked next time.” –did not work for Kevin.  Ms.  Morrison and I decided to individualize our approach to Kevin’s struggle with taking turns and build on his visual learning style and interest in taking on greater responsibility.  Each day, after we complete our post-story discussion, Kevin walks over to Ms. Morrison’s table and figures out who should have a turn to distribute the mats by reviewing a list of his classmates who have helped over the course of the past two weeks.  He then announces the person picked for the day to the entire class.  Since we have developed the system Kevin has not cried or thrown a tantrum once during this transition time.   

We still have some difficulties in other parts of the day; for instance, if he doesn’t get picked during a discussion or game on the rug.  Yet the intensity of his responses has subsided, and he is better able to manage his anger without much direct attention from me.  He will sometimes turn his back to the group to weep silently or just breathe deeply.  He either comes back to the group on his own in a few minutes or responds to me praising others or engaging him with an interesting activity.  He even occasionally uses our “Oh well” message.

We have certainly made progress in working with Kevin and understanding how to continue improving his behavior in the future.  His ability to stay focused and calm even when he is not chosen or he does not get what he wants will undoubtedly help him grow both academically as a learner and socially as a member of our classroom community. 

A New Year: Pre-K 114's Resolutions for 2007

In my classroom, setting and working tirelessly toward goals are crucial to our overarching theme of going from “good to great.”  I set goals for my students, use data to assess our progress toward those goals, and design lessons based on those analyses.  Likewise, I aim to instill in my students the importance of reflecting about areas in which we can improve and addressing those areas in order to grow as learners.  I also want to invest families in this process in order to ensure that a goal oriented mindset stays with my students after they graduate from pre-k.   

As part of our celebration of the New Year, we made resolutions with our families.  Each student received a note and blank resolution card the first day back last week.  Students returned the cards after coming up with a resolution with family members at home. 

2007 New Years Resolutions

Tyrone and his mother:
Our goal is to read more words and count more numbers. 

David and his mother:
Our goal is to read two books every night and find more words and letters.

Sierra and her family:
As a family our goal is to spend more time reading and sharing our thoughts.

Derrell and his mother:
Our goal is to improve Derrell’s writing of letters.

Tyrique and his mother:
Our goal is to strive for the best together.

Awana and her mother:
Our goal is to identify numbers and the alphabet and to work on writing Awana’s first and last name.

Karen and her grandmother:
Our goal is to read one new book a night and write down two new words out of the book. 

Fuquan and his mother:
Our goal is to read a book every night. 

Kevin and his grandmother:
Our goal is to help Kevin read a book until he understands how to read alone.

Jeffrey and his mother:
Our goal is to learn how to tie our shoelaces. 

Ravon, his mother, and father:
Our goal is to sing more songs together such as “The Wheels on the Bus.”

And Still He Rises...

Friday morning, 7:45 am, and still no Ms. Alexander.  Tyrique’s mother and I have now set up four alternative conference times to meet about Tyrique.  Each time she has said she would make it.  Each time I have provided several oral and written reminders; and each time, she has not shown.   Tyrique is not a major behavior problem, but he did come in among the lowest academically in the class.  He could barely identify any of the letters in his name and struggled to pick up on basic book handling skills.  We have a lot to discuss, but still, Ms. Alexander doesn't come.  She does come, however, to other parental events: Family Show and Tell, Giving Thanks, Halloween Costume Parade, Tyrique's birthday party.  She comes late, but she comes, nonetheless. 

I grow frustrated and decide instead to focus solely on Tyrique and our work inside the classroom.   With our efforts to target his needs in one-on-one, small group, and whole group interactions, Tyrique has now started to identify beginning sounds and some letters in words on his own.  He can also write his name and read the names of his friends. 

Is family support important?  Of course.  But what happens when difficulties with parental investment arise, even as early as pre-k?  Does the child become a lost cause?  Of course not.  Should teachers relinquish their own responsibility?  Just the opposite. 

Students as Teachers: An Amazing First Day Back

"Happy New Year!" I exclaimed to each of my students as they walked in today. In the past, this week back after the holiday break often proved somewhat hectic, with many of the children getting back into the swing of our daily routines. This year's return is shaping up differently. Here are a couple of highlights from the first day back:

• While I planned to review our "talk it out" approach to conflict resolution later in the week, the students independently devised their own scenarios today. As part of our introduction to a three-week exploration of winter, I showed them two bears: one fully dressed for winter and the other wearing only a tee-shirt. After we passed them around, I asked them what they noticed about the two bears. Samar responded, "That bear with the jacket hit the other bear with a block." We then began discussing various ways we could respond to such a situation. The students came up with everything from apologizing and telling an adult to getting another block the two bears could share. We ultimately did talk about and explore winter throughout the day, but the teachable moment involving the bears was particularly valuable because it derived from student interest and demonstrated their deepening understanding of how to solve conflicts.
• After reading the poem "Chicken Soup with Rice" for January, we laced up our make-believe skates and tried pretend skating while sipping our own soup in the auditorium. We discussed potential dangers such as: "wind that could blow leaves in your soup" (Kevin); "rain that could make the soup taste nasty" (Derrell); and, "snow that could make the soup cold" (Sierra). As we skated around the auditorium, we managed to escape a wolf "hiding behind a tree" (Jeffrey), but suddenly a dragon appeared. We just started exploring snow and ice today, so, like any good pre-k teacher with Greek roots, I had to use a bit of the Socratic method. After breaking it down with detailed questions, we figured out that the fire from the dragon would melt the ice, causing us to have to swim back to our classroom instead of ice skate. As Ravon said, "Whew, that was a close one."