[New Favorite Things Friday] Caped Time Outs

Last week I left work on time one day and went to spend an hour getting my tootsies painted. The favorite thing is not painted tootsies, it's taking the hour out of my day to sit and enjoy the time. I was able to let my thoughts wander or not wander. I stared out the window at the sunny sky, I chatted some with the tootsie specialists, and I enjoyed the hour. I felt refreshed and energized afterwards. Of course I also felt fancy since I had painted tootsies.

It reminded me of the times in my classroom when I remembered to take a break like this. I scrolled through my blog and found so many little tidbits about times that this break made the learning actually go faster. To be clear, these breaks were often only a minute or two long, There is much to be taught to our most inspiring cape-wearing students and hour-long breaks are much less common.

I scrolled through some blog posts and found some of my favorite short breaks. There are quite a few here, so I will just encourage you to pick one or two that strike your fancy and take a mini-break as you read some bits about my "lovies" from back in my teaching time. I enjoyed the stroll and boy do I love teaching!


Going Invisible (time--under a minute; school skills used--writing craft and vocabulary)

Pickle Skins  (time--about a minute)

European Studies (time--30 minutes; school skills used--technology integration)

Bait and Switch (time--2+ hours); school skills used--reading, writing, presentation)

A Vignette (time--2 minutes)

A Collection of Blue Things (time--immeasurable)

A Cup of Tea (time--3 minutes of me, zero minutes for student)

Campfire (an all-time favorite moment in my teaching career)

Each of these vignettes shows a small (or longer) time out that had a positive impact on at least me. Can you think of a time out that was effective for you? If not, I encourage you to take one.

[Student Stories] Going Invisible

I have a couple of students with Autism or Autistic-like behaviors (an actual thing when the diagnosis isn't clear on an educational level).  Without going into a long discussion (yet*), let me oversimplify by saying that some students with Autism struggle with social skills, understanding social cues and non-verbal communication, and it is quite quite common for a student with Autism to be very literal in their thinking.  The teaching standards for Language Arts in the middle grades in my state include lots of figurative language.  Good expository and narrative writing includes lots of figurative language. I am constantly trying to teach these kiddos nuance, metaphor, allusion, and a sense of themselves outside what they can see and hear. Or, failing that, how to navigate the world around them.  Below is a conversation I had recently with one of these kiddos.  On the surface it seems like an odd conversation.  Threaded in there though, are some beads of brilliance on his part.  Let me 'splain...

Kiddo: This week is going by slow isn't it?

Me: (sighing, rubbing my forehead) Yes, it really is.

Kiddo: Is it really, or like 8th-graders-are-literal kind of slow. [BEAD #1]

Me: (starting to smile) Nah, I think it really is.

Kiddo: (mischievous twinkle in his eye) And maybe slower because we have 8th Grade Disease? [BEAD #2]

Me: [smiling] Yeah, maybe it is.

Kiddo: And would it be better if I became invisible? [BEAD #3]

Me: Maybe if we all did, yes.

Kiddo:  See you tomorrow.

Me:  Not if we're invisible

Kiddo: Yeah.


BEAD #1--I always tell them that it's okay if they see things literally at first, because that's what 8th graders are really good at.  I play out scenarios where 8th graders are literal, and then we try to be more figurative.  He realizes that the week going slowly isn't literal, and he's turning that over in his mind.  He caught himself being figurative (yay!).  Also, we use hyphenated modifiers in our writing, and he made it clear he was using one in his talking (you have to find it yourself.)

BEAD #2--Here Kiddo is showing me that he remembers something I said.  He sees that I'm tired, that it was a rough day.  He knows I talked to the 8th graders about having 8th Grade Disease earlier, and he is trying to connect.  This is huge. He knows he was a butt-head himself earlier, and wants to fix it.  The fact that he is trying to reach out of his own head in a social way is a big step for him and a stretch. He also does it quite well, which is super-cool.

BEAD #3--Earlier that week (actually the day before, but as I mentioned, it had been a long week), Kiddo was not paying attention to our conversation about the word "uncanny" and kept talking about how being invisible would be cool.  Even after explaining that invisibility was more of a magic power or super power, he kept blurting out examples using invisibility.  Finally, I tried my "pushing-in-instead-of-pushing-out" trick (I just named that right there. Did you see how I did that?) and stopped fighting him.  I challenged him to try to put invisibility into our conversation five more times before class ended, or before I did--whichever came first (not before I ended, but before I used it five times.  Heh.  That sounds funny so I'm leaving it).  My next example sentence was "It is uncanny how Kiddo has the ability to incorporate invisibility into each of our conversations." and it went from there. Here, he is bringing up an old joke.  This is a big social skill he is learning.  Connecting to a previous conversation like that, and continuing a joke in an appropriate way. I was tickled pink. Or purple.  Or some color that you can be tickled to be.

So you see my caped friends, a ten-second conversation at the end of a long day can, in fact, be full of learning.  What a lucky duck I am to be able to experience it! It's... uncanny! Or invisible.


*NOTE--Two of my caped family members know way more about this than I do.  They study it and work with it and can explain it much better.  I am glad to try, but think I will outsource this particular topic to the experts.

[Photo of the Week] Pickle Skins

I noticed J. nibbling at his pickles.  Here is the conversation that followed (he speaks very precisely.):

Me: J.  Whatcha doin'?

J: I am peeling my pickles.

Me: How come?

J:  I do not like the skin.

Me:  That's awesome.  May I take a picture?

J:  Oh.  Yes.  Do you like it?

Me:  Yes.  I like it very much.  It makes me happy.

J:  I can make them into the shape of an octopus if you would like it better?

Me: No thanks.  I like them just the way they are.

Whatev

I was going to title this post "god-light".  You know, the light that sometimes shines through the clouds and, some say, looks all biblical and stuff?  I did a search on it, and found... well... very little that describes it as I want it described.  Then I thought I'd use "A-Ha".  A search ensued, and I found more a-ha's than I wanted (here, here, and here). By this time in the titling procedure,  I have grown weary and a little bit pissy. You get what you get, I suppose.

What I wanted to say when I sat myself down here to write is that I had a moment today where the light showed through the clouds looking all biblical and stuff, and my little pea brain smiled.  It was tiny.  Itsy-bitsy.  Quite small, really.  I'm sharing it anyway.  I will tell you the end first.

J. said to me "Oh, don't worry.  I learned my lesson with that."

This is J. of the "I smell so good" marker debacle.  J. doesn't learn lessons because he most mightily does not want to.  More than anything he wants to NOT learn, to NOT do, to NOT feel.  Of course, no surprise here, I think he's hilarious and great.  I do quite often want to stomp on his smelly little feet and shake my finger in his impish little face and say "you have so much potential!!!"  I resist (usually).

One day J. was especially focused on doing NOT.  So focused that he had become downright defiant and was causing quite a ruckus.  The best thing to do in this instance is to strategically ignore his behavior (if you want to know more about strategic ignoring, ask me.  I'll tell you.  It's one of my super powers.  That, and over-parenthetical-izing and quotation-al-izing things.).  I did.  And then I did.  And then I did.  And then... I didn't.  I said (don't judge me for this) "Dude, do I need to call your dad?"

BAD idea.  I know. It just came out.  His eyes lit up at the idea of his "NOT-ing" getting attention from me and his dad.  He said, and read this carefully here,

"Whatever floats your boat."

Whatever.  Floats.  Your.  Boat.  Duuuuude....  I was officially irritated.  Truth be told, I was angry at myself for taking the bait.  Lucky for me when I am irritated my senses constrict in the best possible way.  I become calm, quiet, and methodical (or diabolical).  I replied with "Okay."  My dad used to say "okay."  It usually meant I was done.  D-O-N-E.  This is how I imagine my "okay" sounding.  He started to back track and I said "Consider my boat floated."  He looked at me, I looked at him.

Later that day J. asked me for something he didn't really need.  I said "Um, nope."  Soon after, he asked for something else.  I said "Um, nope."  Later still, while the kiddos who had finished their work had some free time, he asked again.  "Um, nope.  See?  This is me, floating my boat. " He looked at me, I looked at him.

The next week, he started to ask for something.  I gave him The Look and he completed his work before asking again.  This happened a few times.  I said, "I see I don't need to float my boat?" He replied with an empathic "no" and a rushed explanation of how he hadn't meant to be rude.  I explained how it might be perceived as rude in some circumstances.  He insisted it wasn't.  He looked at me, I looked at him.

Another week comes and goes with a few hints dropped here and there "Shall I float my boat?"  "Oh, I see, I don't need to float my boat?" Today, the god light/a-ha/whatev moment came.  He said I needn't float my boat any longer.  He had learned his lesson.  We nodded to each other.

Woo-Hoooo!  I wonder how to turn this into a rule?  Something about the boat-floating, or the okay-ing, or the strategic ignorer-ing, methinks.

CONTEST IDEA!!!!!
Send me your ideas about how to turn this into one of Boss's Rules, and I will send you a laminated copy of the entire set of rules so far! I will.  I really will do it. I'll even let you choose the number for the rule if you win. Maybe.

Quote of the Week #14

This week's quote falls In the category of things I never thought I'd need to say.


The scene earlier today...

A. is quite concerned.  He has stuck his head through the back opening in a chair and cannot get it out.   I watched him try to remove it for quite awhile (probably way longer than I ought to have).  He had tried soap and water and various other tricks by the time I said...

"Mrs. X, will you please help A. get the chair off of his head? It appears to be stuck there."*

*Note--In case you're worried, or require further information, the chair may or may not have been stuck.  It may or may not have been his ears catching on the sides of the opening.  It may or may not have been the tension in his forehead and neck (from thinking he might get stuck) that made his head too big.  I eventually removed the chair myself by pushing it down further, getting him to relax for a minute, then removing the chair (slowly).  Save the day?  Check.

European Studies

Today two of my kidlets were humming a few bars from Europe's "Final Countdown."  A third kidlet joined in.  While I was still agape (the adjective as opposed to the noun), they asked if they could listen to it.  I could feel a blue-pen-cap kind of experience coming on and let it happen.

The music started and the kidlets created a spontaneous airband.  We had a drummer, two guitarists, and a vocalist/trombone player/dancer.  I grabbed the video camera, and magic ensued.  I would very much like to show you the video, but cannot post it in any kind of public way.  THEY would very much like to show you the video but also cannot.  If you see me in person, or know how to find me, ask and I'll share it.

November is hard (see here for proof).  The week before Thanksgiving is hard.  The Friday before a full moon is hard (a.k.a. The Full Moonies).  Spontaneous airband renditions of The Final Countdown is a joy.

Quote of the Week #3

Ms. M:  Happy Birthday R.  Here's your birthday pencil!

R:  Is that all?

Ms. M: (gives "the look")

R:  I mean thank you.

It's a good day when...

T'was the first day back from a two-week vay-cay.  All the punkin' heads were reading their books.  Ms. M. notices A. leafing a little too quickly through his and questions his actions.  A. replies, "I'm looking for a hyphenated modifier." And he was!

It's a good day when one of your little turtle doves learns something you taught them, remembers it, and then uses it later, yes?

Hyphenated Modifiers are one of the "Smiley Face Tricks" presented by MaryEllen Ledbetter in her books, activities, and trainings.  I have used Smiley Face Tricks in my classroom, in my teaching of writing, and in my teaching of writing about reading for many years.  They make language accessible to students and give us a common language we can use to discuss our reading and writing.   

Hyphenated Modifiers, or hyphenated compound words, are often a class favorite.  It's a fancy-pants word (see what I did there?) that reminds them of the kinds of things teachers say all the time.  It is more true than we like to believe that students hear their teachers much like Charlie Brown hears his: "wah-wah wah-wah-wah wah." The students I teach have often decided that all of that "teacher talk" is garbage and is fully designed to make them feel foolish.  By the time I get them, any academic vocabulary I might use sends their brains in to la-la land, and I may as well be reading from a college-level physics text.  Seriously--even words like verb, noun, period, apostrophe, indent.  You'd be shocked.

By teaching them the "trick" of the hyphenated modifier, I can give them some of their power back. Learning a five-star word (see what I did there?) like "HYPHENATED MODIFIER" is kind of like opening the door on the rest of those words they never took the time to understand.  It's a word they've probably never heard, their parents may not have heard, and they have almost never been abused with on a test. Once they catch on, they feel like they know something special.  Then I sneak in some others--figurative language, adjective, compound word, syllable. 

So today was a big win.  A. used the term on his own to describe a word he was looking for.  He's ready for the big stuff now, right?  As long as I can keep him from climbing under the table, I think I'll start on complete sentences tomorrow!

Quote of the Week #2

Student walks in, reaches into his pocket and says, in a decent Scarface impression:

"Say 'allo to my little... "

Student pulls out a pen.


"...pen."

Student smiles.

Note: It has been pointed out to me that this little quote could be seen as threatening--at least considering the Scarface reference and the fact that the movie character does pull out a gun instead of a pen.  I did share this concern with the student just so he would know that in a typical classroom setting, he might want to keep references to violent movie scenes to his social conversations. Mostly, this just reminds me that our students today walk a social minefield.  This student truly did make up a funny joke, but MANY people pointed out to me that it could be violent.  Violence never crossed his mind, but the student could easily have been disciplined for this kind of joke.  Crazy world, huh?

Tar Beach

For Spirit Day yesterday, I used a project inspired by the book Tar Beach by Faith Ringgold. In this story a girl imagines she is flying above the night skies of New York and claiming it for herself. She reclaims the union building that won't let her father join due to the color of his skin and she decides to have ice cream for dessert every night. I read it aloud and  explained that according to this girl you can have whatever dreams you want--both big and little. You just have to be willing to shut your eyes and fly.

Cheesy, right? They loved it. One boy had his eyes shut when I finished (and wasn't sleeping).

In the back is a photo of a quilt that copies the style of the book illustrations.  This was the design for our project.

I had each student make a square for the border with their own dreams on it, and a group worked on a large size picture in the style of the book illustrations using our city as the background.  Then they made small flying versions of themselves like the author did in the book, and we hung them on the large picture as if they were flying over the city It looks pretty cool! 

I'll post pictures when I get back in the classroom.  Oh yeah, did I mention?  This caped teacher is flying off for Spring Break!!!

Bait and Switch

Earlier this year our little program was in the depths of student misbehavior. A couple of strong role models were pretty much running the place with chronic defiance and bullying. We had tried everything we could think of to change the tide and were at a loss. By this point students had lost nearly every privilege we offered and were running amok.  We had nothing to take away from them and decided to try to start rebuilding anyway.  Basically, we tried the "bait and switch," and held our very first Spirit Day.  

We spent the day working on projects--both group and individual--that focused on goal setting and team building. We hid the serious messages by using lots of crafty supplies, playing their favorite radio station, and letting some of the casually inappropriate conversations slide.

Oddly enough, they liked it! Our students could be considered "disenfranchised" to say the least, and likely spent school activity time in detention, at home, or smoking behind the utility sheds. They may not have had the chance to be a part of a school before.


This month they started asking when the next Spirit Day would be. We were surprised, but we scheduled it for the last Friday before Spring Break (today--hurrah!). Many students asked us on a daily basis about the upcoming Spirit Day, seemed excited for it, and were even willing to call it a name like "Spirit Day." It was hard not to giggle at conversations like:

"I hate this f-in' place. I want to be suspended."

"Fool chill. Tomorrow is Spirit Day."

Today was Spirit Day #2.  We had only one absence.  One student, who is chronically absent, missed the bus.  We assumed we would not see her.  She walked in an hour later, having found a ride to school.  She was happily wearing her school shirt and matching bracelets.  Score one for the attendance books!


The message here?  If you have run out of things to take away from your students for their misbehavior, it just might be time to give them something worth having.  Schools inadvertently take away so much from kids that have so little to begin with.  Caped teachers are just as guilty of forgetting this, but we are also just as able to remember and do something about it.


Yeay! for Spirit Day (and for Spring Break!)

Nimble-minded

J. showed up in my room today with a note from the teacher next door that said "Please keep him busy as long as you can."  This means that his constant stream of chatter (most of it inappropriate) had reached its peak and needed a reset.  I reached in to the canyons of my Super Teacher mind for a way to keep him busy and found... nothing.  

Me: Tell me a story.

J: Balloons can be round and they float in the air.

Me: Okay.  Umm... what are you doing?

J: Spinning.  I like spinning.

Me: Well then!  Try spinning on one foot on the linoleum.

J: I might slip.  But I can balance on one foot.

Me: Great!  I'll time you.  How long can you balance on one foot?

J: (balancing)

Me: (timing... 27 seconds passes)

J: Now what?

It turns out this was not a Super Teacher moment, after all.

A Cup of Tea

M. has a cough.  It is an obnoxious cough and quite distracting.  M. comes to school anyway and does not have a ride home if he is sick.

On such occasions it might be appropriate to serve hot tea.  This caped teacher found some organic lime tea that comes, amazingly, in the form of a dehydrated lime.  She bought it for herself, but the coughing M. is finding it quite soothing and is now able to focus on his work. 

**Note: Lest you feel that all is daisies and rainbows here, M. left his dirty cup on the counter once finished, coughed up a good-size phlegm ball the next day as well, and the caped teacher fell ill with the same cough within 24 hours.  Two sides... coin....

Egyptian-Japanese Cats

Teachers are like camels.  We can hold our water all day if we need to.   It is quite a hassle to orchestrate a trip to the ladies room, so some of us wait as long as possible.  When I need to leave, I have to let the aide know, or I have to call someone to come over and watch the kids if she is out.  The kids pretty much have it figured out--a few times a day their teacher has to get a babysitter and "skip to the loo" across the campus.

In an attempt to add some bit of tact to the whole process, I began to refer to the trip as "a meeting with an Egyptian cat" or having to "see a man about about an Egyptian cat."  The link here is vague at best.  Someone in my life once said something about having to use the restroom "like an Egyptian cat" and it stuck. No other reason I can think of.

These days if I ready myself to leave the room I get comments from the students like,

"Got a meeting?"

"Gonna go see a cat?"

"Meeting someone about that Egyptian cat?"

This week, the 7th Grade Humanities class is studying ancient Japanese art.  In my research I found that the Japanese cat has quite a history and is a symbol of good luck and prosperity.  I have started to thread the Japanese Cat, or Maneki Neko, into my repertoire, but it has been slow-going.  They are quite taken with the idea of my daily visits to see the Egyptian cat, and not so willing to add the Japanese cat to the mix.

I suppose the lesson here is similar to the collection of blue things.  Community builds in strange ways.  Perhaps my references to feline urination aren't exactly classy, but I think the camaraderie this has built might be worth a little low-class humor.

Here is my proof:

Today I was working with my small English Language Learners group during PE.  One of the students in my group suffers from selective mutism.  M. is quite a sassy little thing, but very rarely speaks.  While I respect her strength of character in controlling her life in this manner, you may well imagine that the required language development curriculum leaves little room for a student that doesn't speak. For those of you who have not observed a lesson using typical Level A English Language Development curriculum, you will want to picture a very verbal, language and print-rich environment with a lot of TALKING, CONVERSING, DISCUSSING  of various topics in day-to-day life.

Anyhoo, a few minutes into class today, I realized I needed to use the loo.  This is only problematic because all staff members were out at PE, and I knew there would be the added hassle of the students having to sit outside and wait for me while I "held my meeting."  I muttered to myself, "Oh no.  I need to see an Egyptian cat."  M.  smiled slyly, sighed dramatically, shut her computer and stood up.  Showing that she a). knew the joke and b). knew the nuance of the issue that included her sitting outside to wait for me.

If you add this to R.'s recognition of Egyptian cats living far away (see the Man on the Horse entry a couple of weeks ago), I have taught two students two things using this little euphemism.  For this reason, I am counting this as a success.

Teachable Moment #497

Student--"Ms M.--how's this?"  

(holds up what appears to be a pencil outline of California)

Me: "Looks good!" (gives thumbs up sign) 

...a few minutes pass...

Student: "Ms. M--how's this?

(holds what appears to be same pencil outline of California)

Me: "Looks good! Is there anything on there you are showing me?"

Student: "Nope!"

...a few minutes pass...

Student: "Ms M.!"

(holds up what appears to be the same pencil outline of California)

Me: "It's nice, D.  I have a question, though.  It seems that you have shown me the same pencil outline of CA three times now.  Is that what it is?"

Student:  "Um Yes."

Me: "Well then, how about if we don't do that anymore?"

D: "Okay!"  (all smiles and happy)

How I started the day today

The Littmus Lozenge

We are reading the book Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo.  In it, Miss Franny Block tells the story of Littmus W. Block, who created the Littmus Lozenge.  The Littmus Lozenge has a secret ingredient--sorrow.  Opal and Amanda share their great sadnesses with Miss Franny Block.  I asked the class to write down their great sadness:

"When my grandma died, and I never met my mom's mom or dad, and my Dad having diabetes."

"That I don't know my real dad."

"That my dad left my mom and I."

"If I don't make it to college"

"One of my family members died in the wild fire."

"I sad because I didn't go to my little cousins birthday and these is my first year I didn't go to her birthday." [sic]

"I'm sad because barney is a dinosaur that gets paid in clipped toenails."

"Leaving all my friend at PKMS."

"Getting taken away from my mom, being in foster care, and not seeing my mom and family on my birthday which is today."

"I am sad that I am adopted and I don't get to see my birth family.  I have a lot more sadnesses but I'm not going to share them."