In my previous blog post I shared my personal literacy history.  I titled it “Breaking the Cycle” for a couple of reasons.  First, I realized that I needed to break the cycle of teaching reading the way it had been taught for many years.  I also realized that in order to help my students rise out of poverty, it would be critical that I give them a strong foundation in reading. This exercise was very therapeutic for me. I realized that my personal experiences as a reader have shaped who I am as a teacher.  Over the years I have tried more and more to design my literacy instruction in ways that set my students up to develop into lifelong readers who do what real readers do.  This is as it should be.  If we are asking our students to do things that do not match what real world readers do, it is probably time for us to do some self-reflection. 

I am currently reading the newly published Units of Study for Teaching Reading by Lucy Calkins. Her words and the current research she cites all support this.  As you begin this new school year, I encourage you to think about your own literacy history.  Let me quote some of Lucy’s words to get you started:

“Think for just a minute about the times in your life when reading was the pits, and then think about times when reading was the best thing in the world.  What were the conditions that made reading so bad; what made it so good?  I’m pretty sure that you are saying that reading worked for you when you could choose books that mattered to you, when you had lots of time to actually eyes-on-print read, and when you could finish one chapter, and instead of answering twenty questions, read the next chapter.  If you’ve had the exquisite pleasure of sharing reading—in a book club, a Bible study group, a woman’s group, a writing group, or in a friendship that includes books—then the social fabric of reading will be part of what made reading work for you.  And I’m pretty sure that when reading was the pits for you, someone else told you what to read, what to think about, and what to do when you finished reading.  You probably felt as if your every move was monitored and judged, making reading a performance for someone else.”

As you reflect, think about both positive and negative experiences.  Was there a special person who turned you on to reading?  Are there any books that were turning points for you as a reader?  Conversely, what turned you off about reading?  Before I wrote my my mini-memoir, I started with a timeline that looks like this:

I encourage you to jot your ideas down in some fashion.  You can take that a step further by sharing your literacy history with your students and asking them to do the same.  You could also have your entire staff do this exercise at a staff meeting and then discuss.  Be sure to be reflective and ask, “Do our teaching practices match our beliefs about the teaching of reading?  Are we creating an atmosphere that promotes a love of reading?” 

As this new school year begins, I am going to write a short series of reflections on the teaching of reading.  I believe it is critical that teachers approach all teaching with some self-reflection.  Topping my list of self-reflective questions is always “What are my beliefs about how children learn and do my practices match these beliefs?”  If there is a disconnect, I start to think about why it is there and what I can do about it. 

The self-reflection of my literacy practices began during my first year of teaching when I realized that what I was doing wasn’t working.  I began by thinking about how I became a reader (my own personal literacy history) and how I could help my students do the same.   More recently,I wrote these experiences into a mini-memoir piece that I would like to share with you below. 

Breaking the Cycle

When you go to school you learn to read. That’s what I always thought. I couldn’t wait to start school so that I could begin to unlock the mysteries on the pages of books. I didn’t attend kindergarten, so I had to wait until I was in first grade, 6 ½ long years to begin my formal literacy journey. I don’t remember much about my first day of school except what happened after I arrived home. I rode the bus home trying to hold in the tears, only allowing them to spill down my cheeks as I ran up the driveway. My mom was sweeping the garage as she anxiously waited to hear about her firstborn’s adventure. She quickly put down her broom when she noticed the distress on my face. “What’s the matter, honey?”

“I didn’t learn to read today,” I sobbed. “You said I would learn to read when I went to school.” She consoled me with some homemade cookies as she broke the news that learning to read is a long process. Not the news I wanted to hear, but news I learned to accept.

I was still so naïve, though. There was so much to do before we could read. We started in the “blue workbook”. The alphabet letters were lined up above the chalkboard, but the pictures were masked.  My teacher would uncover just one letter at a time, a process that would take weeks. First came the letter “m”.  She ceremoniously revealed the picture of an ice cream cone beneath the letter “m”. Of course. Ice cream cone because you say “mmm” when you lick one. It made sense at the time. I dutifully drew rows of “m’s” in my workbook and the first day’s reading lesson was finished. Next came the letter “s”. Tire stood for “s”. The sound of air escaping a pierced tire. Intuitive, I suppose. Next came the first vowel, the letter “e”, and now I could read and write the words “me” and “see”. I found it all very exciting, but it still wasn’t what I expected. I still couldn’t decipher the words in my books at home. We had to complete all of the blue workbook and then the gold one before we were handed our first readers, and it would be months before that would happen.

I somehow learned to read (and like it) in spite of the disappointing start. Fast forward two years. My third grade teacher introduced me to Scholastic book orders, and a whole new world opened up to me. I still own my first two book purchases: A Pony for the Winter and a biography of Helen Keller.     I clearly remember the day I sat in class deeply entrenched in Helen Keller, not realizing that the teacher had begun teaching the math lesson. That is the day I remember becoming a reader. From that point on I would never be without a book. I traveled to faraway places, met interesting people, and lived vicariously through the characters in my books. Even though money was tight, my mom allowed me to purchase two new paperbacks from the book orders every month. My older cousins began giving me the books they had finished. Soon my dad had to build me a special bookshelf to hold all of my prized possessions.

I became a reader, but there was something I could never understand. If I liked to read so much, why did I so dread reading class at school? I was a product of the three reading group/round robin reading/workbook era. Each day was exactly the same—take turns reading the story aloud, answer the comprehension questions, complete the appropriate workbook pages, and if you finish early, begin your SRA cards. This cycle continued throughout elementary school.

Fast forward again. I was now 22 years old in a classroom of my own. My first class consisted of 23 second-graders in an urban school district. This school grouped classes homogeneously, so being the new teacher, I received the low class—23 second-graders on kindergarten and first grade reading levels. My charge was to get them up to grade level using only basal readers and workbooks, to follow the prescribed order of the books, and to be on the correct page each month when the reading specialist came to check on my progress. In addition, I was to do all of this while every 15 minutes a new group of students was pulled out for Title I math and reading services and speech therapy. I knew I was the new kid on the block, but something about this did not seem right. How could I subject my students to the same drudgery that I endured in elementary school? More importantly, how could I find a way to instill in my students the joy of reading that I had known? These children didn’t have cousins giving them boxes of books, moms providing a book allowance each month, or dads building them bookshelves. If these children were going to become readers, it would be mostly up to me.

A couple of weeks ago my family and I were visiting some relatives in northern Michigan or “up North” as Michiganders would say.  As part of our visit we toured an old farmhouse that my husband’s cousin is renovating.  On our way out of the house I noticed this barn on the property and asked what was in it. 

Cousin Justain proceeded to tell me about the previous owner of the farmhouse, an old schoolteacher name Mabel Martin.  The mention of a schoolteacher piqued my interest, but I became even more interested when he said, “Yeah, and all of her old files are still in the barn.”  I knew that I couldn’t leave until I got a peek at those files.  So he led me into the barn, up this ladder…

into the attic…

and over to these shelves of treasures where I parked myself for a little while.

The files were extremely dusty but surprisingly well-preserved, considering that they are 60-70 years old according to the 1940’s to early 1950’s dates on them.  My family was impatient to leave the hot, dusty barn, so I didn’t have as much time as I would have liked to glimpse into a past teaching era.  But I did grab a few artifacts on my way out.  One was this handbook from a professional development seminar on classroom discipline:

As I thumbed through it I found sections on topics like “Creating a Favorable Classroom Climate” and “Establishing a Good Routine”.  Then my eyes landed on a section called “Unstable Children”.  What?  According to this guide, these are the unstable children who may need remedial discipline:

• the too perfect child
• those who get picked on
• those the others tease or call names
• those the others make fun of
• the fat one
• the skinny one
• the brain
• the fellow whose interest is in the stars (heavenly kind) when classmates are following the Hollywood variety
• the child who leaves you “cold”
• the failures
• those with poor academic records
• those people say do not act their age
• those everyone knows and not favorably either

So I’m wondering, what child does NOT fit into one of these categories?  And just because they do, does that mean they are “unstable”?  I thought the wording was actually quite humorous and we did get a big chuckle out of it.  It did get me thinking, however, about the labels we put on our students, intentionally and unintentionally.  Some of you have already met your new students and some will be meeting them within the next two weeks.  How are you going to view these children?  As problem children?  Or as unique individuals with their own special talents, needs, interests, and yes, even quirks?

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During the first ten years of my teaching career I taught in a fairly transient school district with students moving in and out on a regular basis.  Often, students would show up with a caregiver in the middle of the school day without prior notice, register the child, and leave him/her at the new school.  When I think back, I can only imagine how frightened some of these children must have been having to jump right into this new situation without even seeing the classroom or meeting the teacher prior to being left there.  When I think back, I can also still feel the knot that would develop in my stomach when I saw the principal or secretary enter the room with the new student.  Of course, I tried to be friendly, welcoming, and reassuring, but inside, what I was feeling was often dread.  Not because I didn’t want the new student, but because I wasn’t prepared for him.  Often there was no desk for the child to even sit in.  I would scramble around to find books and nametags to make the child feel like s/he had a place, but I’m sure s/he could sense my stress.  And who knows what the rest of the class was doing at the time!

After dealing with this problem for a couple of years, I finally came up with a solution that is quite simple but did wonders for my stress level when new students arrived.  Since many of you have just started school or will be starting shortly, I thought I would pass on my solution.  I call them “new student packets.”  Here is how they work:  At the beginning of the year when you are making nametags, distributing folders, important papers, books, etc., take a few extra minutes to make several extra sets. Place each set of extras in a Ziploc bag or large envelope and file them away. When you get a new student in the middle of the year, you simply pull out one of your “new student packets” and you’re ready to roll. These are the contents of my packets: safe folder, Take-Home-Tuesday folder, reading folder, writing folder, math folder, poetry notebook, classroom handbook, daily planner, reading response log, paper plate, locker nametag, attendance chart name card, apron name card, sub kit nametag, parent volunteer letter, homework contract, writing topics parent letter and form, personality of the week letter, Month-to-Month Me booklet, birthday card, portfolio.

That’s quite a list of items!  No wonder it stressed me out trying to gather all of them each time a new student arrived.  Once I developed this system, not only did my stress level decrease, but my attitude improved.  It was so much easier for me to truly welcome each new child into my community of learners.

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When I find things that will make a teacher’s life easier, more productive, or more fulfilling, I just can’t help but share.  This is a product that I was introduced to by a friend 2 years ago and now I tell all my friends about it.  It is the FlyLady Stainless Steel Water Bottle.  This product is better than sliced bread!  It is the only water bottle that I have found that keeps water cold all day and does not sweat even one drop!  And I can throw it in my school bag without risk of dripping water all over its contents.  Last summer I spent four weeks in Colorado, Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico in over-100-degree weather.  I would fill my bottle with icy water each morning, hike in the hot sun all day (refilling my ice-filled bottle periodically) and would still have ice-cold water at the end of the day!  My family got tired of my saying, “MY water is still cold.”

We all know how important it is to stay hydrated, but teachers (who can often only take time for one break a day) routinely neglect to drink enough water.  If you’re like me, you keep a bottle of water on your desk to remind yourself to drink throughout the day but get tired of throwing away disposable bottles. Or you get annoyed with the sweat that constantly drips on your desk, inevitably soaking a stack of ungraded papers or worse yet, report cards.  All of these troubles disappeared for me once I purchased my  FlyLady Stainless Steel Water Bottle.

I encourage you to stay hydrated this year, and to help get yourself on the right track, treat yourself to one of these water bottles.   I’m thinking of buying a few for Christmas presents this year!

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Almost every time I present a workshop or seminar, someone will come up and ask, “What is that white stuff on your students’ desks?” 

That’s when I break into my little spiel about this great product that was introduced to me by another teacher.  It is called Mean Streak by Sanford and is a permanent marking pen that comes in yellow, white, red, and black. 

It can be used for writing things that you want to stay on all year or for a portion of the year.  It can be used on most nonporous surfaces, including chalkboards and students’ desks.  It looks like chalk on the board but cannot be erased or washed off with water.  Once I learned about Mean Streak I never went back to the messy nametags that I used to tape to my students’ desks, only for them to pick away at the tape or spill their water all over. 

Then I started finding other uses for Mean Streak.  It’s great for marking some of my personal belongings that sometimes seem to sprout legs and never return to my classroom, like my heavy duty 3-hole punch and my favorite stapler.

When you are ready to remove Mean Streak, simply spray it with cheap hairspray and wipe with a paper towel!  As with any product, be sure to test the marking pen and hairspray on all surfaces before using. 

After my little spiel, I am usually asked, “Where can I buy Mean Streak?”  I purchased mine from a small office supply store in Ohio and have never seen it anywhere else.  One marking pen lasts quite a long time, and by the next time I needed one, I no longer lived in Ohio, so I had to find a new source.  I found them at Amazon.  Ordering information is below. 

While writing this blog entry, I did some more searching and found a product that looks similar but comes in more colors.  I haven’t tried this brand yet, so I can’t vouch for it, but it looks like it would work, too.

Yesterday I wrote about the power that we hold as teachers—the power to affect our students’ lives in amazing ways.  That reminded me of a poem I haven’t looked at in several years, so I dug it out to share with you.  I hope it is as inspiring to you as it is to me!

The Power to Teach

I feel sometimes powerless and small
overwhelmed and inadequate
engulfed
in thoughts and feelings
that perhaps what I am doing
is insignificant,
that my life’s pursuit,
that my teaching,
is futile.
And I say,
“Who am I to change the world?”
“Who am I to think
that I can make a difference?”

And then I reflect
on the young people
under my charge,
and I think about
my role and about what power,
if any, I have.
To a great extent
I determine
the curriculum.
And the richness
and intensity with which it
is taught
is in my hands.
And I have the ability
to think and to plan
and then to implement;
to select from my
repertoire of skills
the best one suited
to my purpose
yet still able
to adapt myself
to student needs
with the dexterity of an artisan.

Most adults would be fortunate
to last out one day
overseeing a roomful of kids.
My orchestration
makes enlightened music
of the chaotic din.
I guess you
could say
that is power!

And I can use my hands.
Turned up to lift them up,
or turned down
to keep them down.
And I have the power
to lead my students places
they did not know existed,
to build them back up
when society
tears them down,
to catapult them higher
than I myself will ever reach,
And to push them gently,
but assuredly,
in the unknown,
painting for them
in broad brush strokes
a future
I can never
hope to see.

Every day
I have the wherewithal
in my classroom
to build walls
or to build bridges
between the generations.
And it is
within my discretion
to design a rigid,
competitive structure
or a cooperative,
helping network
in my classroom.
I have an awesome power.

If I succeed
I pass knowledge
about what is important
to the next generation.
Mine is a present power
and a future power.
If I can reach
the children of today,
I touch the
children of tomorrow.

Mine is a
giving power.
All that I know
about the world
and about how
one learns
about the world
I must give.
And in the giving
of my gift
I receive
my greatest power:
the power to teach
my students
to learn how to learn.
Empowering them
is of the essence,
for if their teacher
feels sometimes
powerless and small,
how insignificant
must they
sometimes feel?

And when
the last day
comes,
and it is time for us to part,
we gather together,
say our good-byes
and separate.

After that
there is sadness
but a certain
contentment
that I am sure
only teachers feel.
It is a happiness
that comes from knowing
that a part of us
forever, transplanted,
lives…
no, thrives!
inside of each
individual who
has gazed at us
across tired brown desks
and called us
“Teacher.”

Even on a down day–
when I’m feeling puny
and insignificant–
even then I try hard
to remember
that all it takes
is one person
just one person!–
to make a difference
in their lives.

And,
there is no reason
in the world
that that person
cannot
and should not
be me!

I can make a difference!

That is my power.

That is the power to teach!

–Author Unknown

It’s the beginning of August.  Have the dreams started yet?  You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?  The back-to-school anxiety dreams.  Mine usually go something like this:  I’m in my classroom a week or two before school starts, getting my room ready.  I’m hanging a bulletin board and turn around to find all of my students already there.  Sometimes there aren’t enough desks for all of them, other times not enough books, but always I am not prepared and I begin to panic.  I don’t know how the dreams end because I always wake myself, heart pounding, and remind myself that I still have X number of days left and that I will be prepared by the time they all show up.

In my opinion, teachers have one of the hardest jobs in the world.  And there is always so much to do and not enough time to do it, no matter how prepared we feel by that first day of school.  Preparation and planning are important, but you know what?  They are not most important, especially not to our students.  What matters most to kids is that their teachers are caring, compassionate individuals who are also passionate about teaching and about their subject matter.  A caring, compassionate, passionate teacher can influence students in both amazing and unexpected ways. 

Can I share a personal example with you?  Some of you who know me personally know that every year my family travels to a different part of the United States to explore that part of the country and see as many national parks as we can.  So far we have visited 45 different states and about 60 national parks.  This year our trip took us to the eastern part of the country to places like the Smoky Mountains, Congaree National Park, and the outer banks of North Carolina.  The majority of this year’s trip, however, was spent at Revolutionary War and Civil War battlefields.  This was not a trip we had originally planned on taking, but was inspired by my daughter’s 8th grade history teacher.  You see, she had a teacher who was so passionate about history, who taught with humor, and who took an interest in his students.  In turn, my daughter became excited about American history and begged us to go visit the sites of the battles she had learned about.  Because of that teacher, our whole family has taken an interest in history.  What an impact he is having on his students!

We visited 12 different battlegrounds.  We ended our vacation at Antietam, the site of the bloodiest day in American history.

As teachers, we all have the power to impact students’ lives.  As you are preparing to go back to school, I want to encourage you not to get bogged down in some of those details that stress you out (or cause anxiety dreams), but focus on what will really make a difference for your students…and that is YOU…a caring, compassionate, passionate teacher who inspires children to learn!

	A highlight for the kids was finding where Stonewall Jackson’s arm was buried.
	At Arlington National Cemetery we were able to pay tribute to one of my college friends who was killed in the war with Iraq.

I know that some of you have been out of school for almost a month now and others have just begun your summer vacation this week.  So what do you plan to do with yourself this summer?  Are you relaxing by a pool or beach, going back to school to take a workshop or pick up some graduate credits, or just hanging out with family and friends?  Anybody planning to read just for pleasure this summer?  I know I am!  I have lots of teacher friends who are avid readers but just don’t have time during the school year to do much pleasure reading.  I hope you get to treat yourself to some great books this summer!  If you’re like me, you already have a too-long list of titles and your “eyes are bigger than your stomach”.  For those of you who are looking for some recommendations, I thought I would give you a few of my suggestions.  I invite you to post your recommendations, as well—either here on the website or on my Teacher2Teacher Help Facebook page.

These are some books that I have read and absolutely loved:

Here are a few books that have come highly recommended to me and are on my summer reading list:

So what’s on your list?

“Hi, I’m Dr. Shermetaro,” my doctor said, extending his hand to introduce himself.  In the very next breath he added, “I can’t believe you’re reading that book!”  Upon hearing him enter my examination room, I had just closed my current book club selection A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. “I just brought that book to the office today to lend to a friend who is going to spend 2 months hiking the Appalachian Trail this summer!” he continued, obviously excited to share his love of this book for the second time in one day.  We proceeded to talk about this and other books we have read and make recommendations to each other.  He insisted that I MUST read The Glass Castle.  Ironically, that’s the book my book club leader selected for the following month, and I must say that it is now on my list of favorite books and I recommend it whenever I get the chance. 

I entered the doctor’s office that day with a doctor/patient relationship and left as a fellow book lover.  Without a doubt, books bring people together–sometimes even the most unlikely of people in the most unlikely of places.

A few years ago I stood at the local farmer’s market selecting plants for my vegetable garden.  I wanted advice about some  heirloom tomatoes and found myself drawn toward an older gentleman manning one of the plant stands.  Albeit a younger version, he reminded me so much of my 102-year-old grandfather who had owned his own greenhouse as a hobby and grew a huge vegetable garden until the summer before he died.  After imparting his knowledge of tomatoes, the man began to share with me how his greenhouse was a family affair and that his children and grandchildren were now taking the reins.  I shared with him that my grandparents and parents had instilled in me a love of gardening and that I hoped my children would come to love it, as well.  He said, “You know what you need to do?  Have your children plant some sunflowers in the shape of a square and when they grow tall, let them play inside it.”

My grandfather “Papa” takes a break while working in his garden.

I became very excited and said, “I did that! It’s called a sunflower house! We got the idea for it when I read to my children a picture book called The Sunflower House by Eve Bunting.”

“Yes!” he said. “That’s where I got the idea, too!”  I had already bonded with this man around our shared love of gardening, but now our mutual love of a book solidified that bond. 

Books have a way of doing that to people.  I thought about this as I left my book club meeting this afternoon.  It was our final meeting of the year until we resume again next fall.  I thought about each person in my book club and how much they have enriched my life during the past 3 1/2 years.  Some of them I had known previously, but others were just introduced to me through this club.  We have a variety of interests and passions, but one thing we all share is a love of books.  And through our discussions each month, I believe we have all grown and become smarter, more interesting people because of the books we have shared.

It is my hope that my students will someday experience this passion for reading, too, and that their lives and relationships will be enriched through the power of books.