A Listening Ear

All I have to do is turn on a cable news show with talking heads barking at each other to know how important listening is for the young generation I teach.  I work intensely with my students on their ability to listen to teachers and each other.

Like any other skill, I start my plan for listening skills by familiarizing myself with the state’s idea of mastery.  The NJ Preschool Expectation for listening is pretty comprehensive.  In addition to following directions with several steps, students must demonstrate proficiency in engaging in a dialogue with others and incorporating ideas from previous discussions and songs into play.

With these guidelines in mind, I design lessons that cover each component.  These can be games explicitly dealing with following directions (Simon Says has always been my favorite) or increasingly complex directions given to students in small group and one-on-one interactions during choice time.

Story time discussions are obviously valuable opportunities for students to strengthen listening skills as they listen to the teacher read to them.  Students can also work on listening to their peers as we engage in a dialogue about the story.  I have taught my children how to build on the comments of another student and respectfully offer alternative ideas by using phrases such as “I agree” or “I disagree.”  During a recent read-aloud of the book Giraffes Can’t Dance, Jeffrey noted, “I think the giraffe is gonna leave the jungle ‘cause the lion mean to him.”  Samar then responded, “No, he not gonna leave.  The other animals will be nice to him.”

As you can imagine, with 14 four year olds egocentric tendencies can pose challenges for the frequency and depth of these kinds of interactions.  Tanasia, whose mind was often on her family in the beginning of the year, would comment on her brothers and sisters regardless of the topic of our class discussions.  After months of working on listening skills and becoming more comfortable in the classroom, she now makes comments and asks questions pertinent to stories.  During a story for Mother’s Day just last week, in which the mother is in a wheelchair, she asked, “Ms. Pappas, why she in the wheelchair?”  Derrell demonstrated his own growth in listening by answering her: “I think she fell in the street and was hit by a car.”

Students also show progress by incorporating ideas from discussions and stories in their play.  After building a house in the Blocks Area, Fuquan told everyone to step back and then cried, “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down,” thereby applying his knowledge of the Three Little Pigs to his independent work.  Ravon showed me a turtle moving slowly in the Discovery Area after we acted out The Tortoise and the Hare during Outdoor Play time.

These skills lay a strong foundation for our students as they head off to kindergarten, having gained an understanding of how to follow directions and recognize the perspectives of others in pre-k.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have some “Hardball” and “O’Reilly Factor” to catch up on...

Lessons in Diplomacy

Last week, I had another round of bilateral talks - a.k.a. parent-teacher conferences - which again revealed the importance for pre-k teachers to possess good “diplomatic skills.”

Going into the conferences, I was enthused about discussing my children’s progress.  Tanasia, who had struggled to come out of her shell, is now participating throughout the day and moving forward in basic math and literacy skills.  A look at David’s writing folder demonstrates clear and constant growth, progressing from self-portraits he labeled with the letter “D” to short sentences written with little guidance using invented spelling.

I grew concerned, though, as I considered a few remaining difficulties with two family members in particular: Kevin’s grandmother, who emphatically disapproves of our literacy program; and Tyrique’s mother, who after more than five attempts to reschedule during the last cycle of conferences still never came.

Despite my efforts to engage her, Kevin’s grandmother had barely spoken to me since our confrontation in January.  She had, however, continued to complain to Ms. Morrison during the after-school program proclaiming, “I can’t wait until this year is over.”  While this round of conferences focused more heavily on social development and an explanation of a new assessment, I decided to start off our conversation with positive comments relating to her primary concern: literacy.  I began by discussing Kevin’s ability to read short sentences with little guidance from me (for example, he can read, “I like to see the fat cat run on the mat.”).  I showed her a short, teacher-made assessment I gave to Kevin the day before and modeled how he used his knowledge of letters, letter sounds, and sight words to read.  She was so overjoyed with this positive communication that I was able to shift gears and discuss Kevin’s need for further development in other skill areas, such as taking on roles in Dramatic Play, taking turns, and using words to solve conflicts.

Given her absence from the previous conference, I did not expect Tyrique’s mother to respond to the school’s formal efforts to set up conferences for this round.  I therefore made plans to reach out to her informally about two weeks before.    In addition to mentioning something positive about Tyrique’s performance each time she came in, I would say that I couldn’t wait to talk more about it and show her his great work at the conferences.  The day of the conferences she said she couldn’t stay, but we rescheduled for the next morning.  I made a comment about celebrating Tyrique over muffins in the morning.  She laughed and at 7:45 the next morning was at my door.  We had a productive conference and even discussed some behavioral issues which she too has noticed at home. 

In both of these cases, I believe it was my ability to talk with parents about their children in a positive light that helped us get past indifference and hostility.  It goes to show that, even when parents and teachers don’t see eye to eye or see each other frequently, communication between a child’s home and school is achievable and beneficial to all.

             

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.

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.

Not Your Grandmother's Scantron: Assessments in a Pre-k Classroom

The first years of school are far too critical to waste time on ineffective strategies. Accountability in pre-kindergarten programs is therefore vital to the academic and social growth of our youngest learners.

The word "accountability" may conjure images of standardized exams and hours of tedious test prep—not exactly what we would deem appropriate for a four year old. So what do assessments and accountability look like in a pre-k classroom? Well, despite the obvious attraction of handing a multiple choice test with fifty rows of neatly curved "a to e" oval bubbles to a four year old, the reality is that assessment in pre-k just isn't that easy. Yet that doesn't mean accountability in pre-k is or has to be non-existent.

Four year olds don't always show you what they know. Their moods, interests, and developmental stage can affect their performance on a day to day basis. And if they do demonstrate growth in a particular skill area, they certainly do not all do it in the same way like drawing a picture or responding to questions orally. But if you watch and interact with them everyday, all day, while taking anecdotes and collecting work samples, you can have the data needed to chart growth, design properly differentiated lessons that meet the needs of all learners, and hold programs accountable. My students' words, actions, drawings, and singing are my "a, b, c, d, and e" answers.

Take Tanasia, for example. For the first two months of school she spent the majority of her day either bawling and asking, over and over, "When is my mommy coming?" or in a state of total silence. Our one-on-one interactions often incited desperate pleas for her mother. Then, in early October I began to observe her making connections between the print around her and her friends' names during choice time. That is when I knew not only that she was starting to adjust and build relationships, but that she was picking up on basic literacy skills. She would point to letters on labels in Dramatic Play and say to her friend Karen, "Look, it's the K like in your name." If I confronted her with a barrage of letter identification questions, she would clam up and start to cry. I began to address more and more of those skills during choice time where she felt increasingly comfortable.

One of my students last year struggled with letter identification but masterfully used movement to act out stories or create his own. My extensive anecdotal notes reflected these weaknesses and strengths. I consequently decided to address the latter with the former by working with him one-on-one to create movements for each letter. We waddled like penguins for the letter "P," made elephant noises with a long trunk for the letter "E," and so on. I recently met up with him down the hall in his kindergarten class, at which point he pointed out a letter and made the movement we had devised.

My recent analysis of the anecdotal notes revealed that Kevin (aka the "anti-sharer") is a visual learner. Stay tuned for a post focusing on how my aide and I teach the fairness of sharing using a visual approach that puts him in charge.

Going Above and Beyond

Yesterday, David finally helped another student. For the past three months he has consistently followed all the rules. He has never disrupted the class or disrespected others. He listens attentively and cleans up his mess. Yet, for the most part, up until now David has not gone above and beyond to help a friend.

I aim to make my students not only "law abiding" preschoolers but also individuals who respond proactively to someone in need. It is part of their developmental stage to focus primarily on themselves, but pre-k can also be a time when they become conscious of their larger surroundings and the importance of mutually supportive relationships.

During circle time we were all getting ready to crouch down like frogs and practice counting.  David immediately squatted on his own but then noticed his neighbor, Tanasia, continued to sit with her legs crossed. He told her, "Come on Tanasia, you can do it!"  Without another word, she sprang up, ready to rib-it with the rest of us.

We have spent months cheering on our friends when they come to the board to write or have difficulty opening a milk carton. But this was the first time David encouraged another student on his own. Way to go David!