Happy New Year

 A new year, a new post. I hold gratitude for the year behind me. It included good work with principled colleagues who love to laugh, learning alongside our teachers of tomorrow who stretched me in the best ways, and time with family and friends who filled so many needs and wants. I am ready for 2026!

google doodle reading and learning

Whenever I'm searching the internet and a google doodle appears, I have to immediately check it out before my search. I usually check it out again a few more times before initiating my search and I even go back to it a few more times during the day to link to more information.

Today's google doodle short film commemorating the 25th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall made me think of one of my favorite picture books, The Wall by Peter Sis. That made me think of the very short film produced, integrating his book illustrations and footage behind the "Iron Curtain". It's still moving. You can see it here.

Now I'm wondering how many others appreciate and learn from this google doodle genre.

SOLC Day 24~ testing in 3rd grade

At 8:51 a.m. I left the bookroom (my office) to pick up six young assessees from four classrooms. Pickup time was 8:55 a.m. I didn't want to be late. I waited a few extra minutes for five of the six as they got their last minute directions and bits of advice from their classroom teachers on the best strategies to use when test taking. The teachers looked a bit worried when I walked in. I said I'd wait outside and students could come out when they were ready. Is anyone ever ready for testing?

These students formed my small group, my team for the morning and were together because they get very interested in so many things all at once and a classroom full of 25 students would provide too much opportunity for interesting things to consider while they are taking a test. We can't let this get in the way of their best answers on the test. I mean practice test.

We spend a lot of time and resources practicing for the real thing. The conditions, environment, groupings, accommodations, scheduling, assigning of space, rearranging of lunches and specials and quiet are all planned and synchronized so we can provide the most realistic version of standardized testing possible. It's like going into battle. It's scary.

Personally, I don't think the majority of third graders are developmentally ready for this kind of battle, I mean synchronizing. It takes endurance, patience, confidence, and rationalizing. Not to mention the reading comprehension that's required to answer the questions and that's just in the math assessments. They sit for long periods of time. They have to be quiet, mind and body. They have to believe they can do pretty well and they have to be able to understand why this kind of assessment is important for their future. Most third graders aren't able to think about the next five minutes, let alone their future.

I don't believe it's the best way to show what students should know or be able to do. But, it is a fact of life. So our teachers spend time teaching students how to build endurance, patience, have confidence about test taking, and how to understand why we take these kinds of tests. It's a whole genre on its own. In fact, one of our reading teachers, Amy Greene and a former third grade teacher, Glennon Doyle Melton, co-wrote the book. Literally. It's called Test Talk. I admit I work on these strategies with some ambilavence.

Just before my little team and I walk out of our small group testing space, I give permission for students to perform acts of arm flatulence and mouth popping, giving credence to the spontaneous performances a few minutes earlier. They are thrilled but wary. I just want them to get it out of their systems before we enter a quiet hallway. They readily accept this invitation and I know my ambivalence is justified.

SOLC Day 10~ my writing spot

It's been a few years since I began Blink and Bridge. It started as an attempt to learn more about what my students went through as writers and to journal what happened in our classroom. Yesterday during writing workshop I watched our second graders writing at their desks and it dawned on me they really only get to write in one spot everyday. Their desks. I wondered if they were comfortable. Several students walked around, some to talk about their writing with another student. Some were asking for help from a classmate. All good stuff. Although I admit, I thought a couple of students were just walking around to avoid writing, which made me wonder again if they were comfortable.

When I write at home, I have a three spots I seek out. All have comfortable chairs and ottomans. I believe a comfortable chair ought to have an ottoman because you ought to put your feet up when you sit in it. I like to write with my laptop in my lap. I just think you're supposed to. I think I write more and my writing sounds better when I compose from those spots. Once in awhile I sit at my office desk and write. Even with a comfortable chair it isn't where I prefer to think and write. That desk is where I study. It's where bills get paid. Too much baggage in that spot, I guess. Even at school in the bookroom which houses my desk, I'll sit in the craig's list love seat I got for free so I can put my feet up and write with my laptop on my lap.

I'm thinking I might go into my classroom on Monday with a whole new attitude about where our kids can write. Maybe that darn desk is holding them back. Maybe all they can associate the desk with is math problems! Or the economics of Ancient Mali? At the very least maybe they'd like a choice.

Do you give your students choices about where they can write? Where's your favorite spot to write?

SOLC Day 6 Morning Swim

A few mornings a week, when it's still dark outside, I drag myself to an indoor swimming pool to exercise before I get to school to teach. I watch the long lean high school swimmers, silicone caps on head, rearrange the swim lane lines from the 50 meter distance to the 25 meter distance after their 5:30 am workouts. They're readying for us; the mostly recreational swimmers. I watch the masters swimmers, with their tight swim caps, their special goggles, their individual sets of fins, kickboards, their structured workouts and water bottles get to the pool edge just as I do. I grab a kickboard from the bin, pull out my water bottle, stretch my goggles over my head and hop in. I can see the other swimmers when I turn to breathe on one side. Their precise, sleek strokes are propelled by quick kicks. They look smooth. I make a mental note to get my elbow a little higher before my hand breaks the surface. 


After many summers swimming competitively as a teenager, some of it is like riding a bike. Some of it isn't. I don't do the butterfly stroke for more than half a lap these days. But, I add a few more laps each day. In the middle of my swim I add 1/4 mile of anaerobic laps to get my heart rate up. Way up. Even though my swim isn't as structured as it might be, I get the same satisfaction from the time in the pool as I did when I was much younger. And even when I'm working hard, it still feels like playing to me.

SOLC Day 5~ Today's Read

I couldn't wait to start the finish of the book. I'm reading two books right now for a book club. One is for the March gathering and one is for April. The April book, When the Emperor Was Divine is a much shorter novel. I couldn't help but, pick it up. The tiny book was calling to me. I read chapter one. I was hooked. I couldn't wait to read this!

But, I really wanted to finish the other book, The Heretic's Daughter, longer and with language that isn't as sparse or modern, by next Monday. I opened it right away this morning to get closer to the end. I began to think of the dilemma. The story was too good. I'd be done with it too soon.

There is some consolation knowing I have the other story ahead.

SOLC Day 3~ my celebrity crush

Yikes, I was eight minutes late. I leaned over, pressed the button that would turn on his voice and laid there waiting. His disarmingly sentimental, evenly journalistic, sometimes interrupted by belly laughs voice questioned the interview subject. I listened to the end of the story and then got up to brush my hair. As if he'd pop out of the radio and notice. I imagine we might much in common. Not just the joy we get from a good cup of joe.

The first time I saw Scott Simon was on the book jacket of his memoir, Home and Away, a story I remember that shared so much about two of his loves, his dad and sports. After years of hearing him on Weekend Edition, I had pictured someone else.

I've since seen him in person, sitting disarmingly on a stool, talking sentimentally, journalistically, and interrupting frequently with belly laughs, about his family, his travels, and his writing.  He looks just right now.

My husband was travelling, so I took two of my daughters with me thinking they'd appreciate how he so charmingly tells a story. I mean how he reports on the events of the day. They were mostly impressed I'd been reduced to a simpering 16 year old as I walked around the theater waiting for the doors to open, ignoring that he's married to a beautiful, funny woman from France and has two adorably bright children.

My family named it before I did. He's my celebrity crush.

SOLC day 2~ "Yourr Prrfect"

The story projected onto the entire screen for the other writers to see. The writer of the piece beamed. I read. She beamed some more. I beamed as I read.  I said it was an example of a small moment that really showed how the writer felt. When I noticed it a few days before in a conference I knew I wanted to share it as a mentor text. It was especially important to share this writer's talent. It wasn't always the first thing a classmate noticed about her. 


There wasn't a student moving and eyes were on that screen. The writer wasn't usually this engaged. At least for very long. But her story about going to the buny stre with my mom and ded was holding her attention. She looked around to gauge the reaction as I read. The buny hopt ont my lap and lcked me. I hgged it. I said yourr prrfect.


Her classmates let her know they could see the bunny on her lap. They asked her if she was afraid when the bunny hopped into her lap. Comments continued without me. "I think she was happy because she hugged it." "When she said the bunny was perfect, it meant she was happy." You didn't have to say you were happy. You showed you were happy." "I had a movie in my eyes about the bunny."


This was one of my favorite writing workshops ever. 

SOLC Day 1~ gateway uggs

I started experimenting first. Trying out different kinds. Before I knew it I was craving them.

Today I thought about them as I pulled away from the driveway to go to school, barely ten minutes from my last fix. I longed for them when I was teaching, as I conferred with little writers. They occupied my thoughts at lunch, as I walked down the hall to check my mailbox, while I was synchronizing my calendar. 

They were on my mind in the middle of a team meeting. I even tried to create ways I could get them to school.

I couldn't wait to get home. They provide comfort and escape.  My Ugg slippers.

Coming Soon: Slice of Life

Every March I brush cobwebs off the blogging keyboard and make time to write along with other writers/bloggers via Two Writing Teachers' annual Slice of Life community. Come on and try it with us. See Two Writing Teachers for the "how to" and just write.

Home Visits 2011

A few years ago as I began my training year as a Literacy Collaborative Coordinator, I grieved the loss of home visits in the beginning of my year. I missed them. They'd been a teaching ritual since 1980 (with a few years off when I wasn't teaching) and it was hard to imagine having students and not meeting their families. It was an important experience for me.

About that same time, two young teachers asked me about home visits. They were ready to try them. I got pretty excited about those two heading off to meet families knowing what the knocks on the door would bring; students proudly showing teachers their work areas, parents and student bonding with their teachers, the teachers having an opportunity to communicate face to face. I was happy they would get that feeling about a family that can only come from sitting on a sofa or kitchen table, sharing a cup of insam cha (ginseng) tea or chai or cardamom or Ethiopian spiced tea with them, them sharing what they know about this precious student and finally, sharing what they want to accomplish together.

This year I sat on those sofas, sipped tea, and listened to parents speak about their children along with my very willing co-teacher, the second grade classroom teacher with whom I teach literacy.

We brought student artifacts, a translator, our positive thoughts, and the hope we'd learn something. We weren't disappointed. How else would we know about our writer who had books he'd written from first grade stuffed in a drawer and couldn't wait to show them to us? Or about our budding reader who read her books to her baby sister everyday because both parents only spoke Spanish? What about the reader we continue to be worried about, who loves rabbits and his younger brother, whose mom is practically raising four boys on her own, barely providing for them?  We noticed many students share small spaces with lots of people. "Quietly working" can't really happen when it's a far off idea. A side discovery; one thoughtfully quiet, typically still student wasn't so quiet or still, as he showed off his exceptional ability to move. On furniture.

Those memories come to visit us just about every day. We can't reflect on our instruction without those memories. We teach small children with families who love them. Big house, tiny apartment, under the poverty line, well over it, rhythms of another language or fluent English spoken, our students come to learn and their families support them the best they are able.

15 minutes a day? i can do this.

I happened on this post by Two Writing Teachers about joining Laurie Halse Anderson's  "15 minutes a day" writing challenge and thought...hmmm, sounds like a good way to restart the writing engine. It obviously works for Laurie Halse Anderson, successful author of books for young readers to young adults (or readers of any age, really). 


Writing for 15 minutes a day with little purpose other than to get my pen and ideas moving will be good on so many levels. Grabbing a new notebook right now.

Small group planning

hosted by Two Writing Teachers

Spread around me, 37 pounds of thick, generously endowed reading books to reference. Some at my feet on the ottoman, one near my elbow opened to a page with the heading, "self-monitoring and self-correcting." To my right, stacked flush, are recently analyzed running records; that special evidence of approximations and partial knowledge, ready to build on. Add to that, a bit of straight up accuracy. I'm topping it off with a good mechanical pencil, planning template, and my warmed with the microwave, aroma therapy pillow collaring my neck. A necessity after moving around with those 37 pounds of books, I think. Look out guided reading group! Lesson on the way.

an Irish wake

They walked in with their beautiful suits, their black, their eyes sad with grief, wondering if she would be on the dining table. They figured she probably wouldn't be. But, they still told of how it's done in Ireland. Americans take a bit of license with tradition. The local funeral home provides all the support. Even in Ireland now, local funeral homes are used for the wake. This funeral home is more than the just the local funeral home though. They are extended family. It's a small town and everyone's more than what they would be lost in the crowd of a larger town. Everyone grows up knowing everyone else. It was family taking care of family in these last moments.

 She lived in this town for 50 years and the standing room only space reflected she was still the life of the party. She came here as a 17 year old rose from Ireland. So everyone came to say good-bye.

It was almost like it was her dining room in the large reception room, as family and friends greeted the travelers from Mayo and New York, all over New England, and even,Virginia. There were Tiffany memory lights on every table with wishes for the family to keep her memory as lights were shone. Flowers were fanned out, cascading, and soft hues of pink and white, and green. Lots of green. Photos covered walls in the vestibule and more photos faded in and out on a screen remembering her. Bits of Eire were everywhere; Gaelic, Claddaghs, emerald green, Celtic crosses, the lilt of language.

I felt like I got to know her that much better as we gathered close to remember her. It was a sweet farewell.

It's that time of year again- Slice of Life Challenge 2011

Two Writing Teachers host us again!

Over the last few years, during March I've worked in a month of daily writing through the Slice of Life Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers. I'm tardy. But, I can't pass up the chance to think and write about those small things, to choose those just right words, or share the events as they come. Truth is having a collection of stories at the end of the month feels good.

The volume of stories and comments by fellow slicers; at once encouraging, nurturing, smart, and enjoyable is an important product of this special writing workshop. Being part of that feels pretty good, too.

As I posted the icon to the right here, I thought how one of my goals three years ago during the Challenge was to get closer to what my third grade students must go through when they are writing in class everyday. When I wrote daily, I reflected daily on my writing process. The more I wrote, the more I realized how many decisions I was making along the way. It was hard. I developed empathy in a whole new way for my student writers. I immediately changed how I conferred with my students. I'm wondering what changes in my teaching I'll be thinking about this month.

If you write or get to teach writing, I encourage you to join the Slice of Life Challenge! Click on this to learn how to get started.

Don't blink

Man- where the heck did my first long summer in eight years go? It is now officially a bit of vapor. Gone. I can't say I didn't like it. I did. It was the perfect way to reconnect with my April daughter who graduated from high school this year. We "road tripped" for weeks. I caught up with friends and family all across the eastern seaboard remembering there IS time. I cleaned out the black holes of my home getting reacquainted with spaces and things I'd long forgotten. Personally, summer's been good to me.

Now I'm wondering how it will affect my professional life.

First...our school year has gone from a year round schedule to the more traditional schedule and I'm already missing the "intersession" between quarters that would give us time to breathe, look at students with a fresh eye and attitude, reflect, and prepare for the next round of objectives, lessons, creative teaching, behavior plans, and general all around clearing of the head.

But mostly, as a reading teacher I'm already thinking of how much our kids might have lost over a longer summer without daily reading. Many of our kids don't get read to, have libraries at home, or get to the library often. I'm wondering about administering beginning of year baseline assessments that we previously didn't have to do because students were only away from teachers, guided reading and books for five weeks. What's twelve weeks going to do to their processing? I'm wondering what that data's going to tell us and how we will work to get kids caught up.

Anticipating our longer summer, our librarian, administration, and a cadre of teachers who know the deal opened the library over the summer to give our neighborhood kids a good place to read and get a good read. These teachers lead book clubs, book talks, read aloud stories and gave time to keep the rhythms of reading in our kids' heads. Our PTA provided book bags for those treasures students got to check out and take home. It was a good move. Kids loved it, but is it enough?

Summer has gone by in a blink. When it comes to reading skills, sometimes a blink can be too long.

getting started and getting my stuff done

I love this time of year, the weeks just before the start of school. I love thinking about the possibilities for kid and teacher learning. I love sitting at my desk, pondering the work ahead. I love looking at the books. We are going to do such good stuff this year and I am going to so manage my time, stay focused and get stuff done.

I mean geez, I've located all my books and arranged the shelves just so with children's lit (isn't it really EVERYONE lit?) so it will be readily available. I've cleared my desk. I've stacked piles of stuff that I can't get to now for future sorting and filing. I am really prioritizing. Okay, now I think I'm ready to get to work.

Well, maybe I'll just sort through those papers one more time. Hmmm, filing a few more things would make it a lot easier to focus when I'm rereading "Choice Words" by Peter H. Johnston. Actually, I could work on my calendar for the first week so I'm really organized. Should I check my email again to be sure the schedule hasn't changed? Gosh, is it lunch already?

As I was taking "ten" to refocus and get a good start I came across this.

Right after I watched it, I really did get to work.

Couldn't have said it better myself!

I work in a modified calendar (i.e. year round) school. Today was the end of an era. After eight years, it was our last day of our optional intersession for our students and community. My colleague writes about it today in her blog "Elementary My Dear or Far From It."

Slice of Life

Thanks Stacy and Ruth for lending space on Two Writing Teachers for another month of slicing. Thanks slicers for another month of great reading. I'm late posting here but, sincere none the less. This month I looked forward to the few moments during the day or night when I could get a glimpse, I wouldn't have otherwise have had, into my virtual compadres' lives. Knowing we were all writing about the small, fleeting things in life affirmed the importance of recording and reflecting. I read wonderful vignettes about appointments, pets, children, writing, food, travel, relatives and how each of those topics written in one word seems sterile and empty, but with a bit of description and reflection forms something else... a meaningful part of our day.

I enjoyed taking a peek at my own day. Those small moments that you can't get back... unless you write a little.

Happy April, slicers. Well done.

Spin Doctor

The hills were killer today. Who knew when I got there, after checking my seat and adjusting my handlebars, after putting my towel and water bottle just so on my bike, that we'd be off on a climb in the Canary Islands. Sure,we started with a reasonable tilt and speed. But before long we made big adjustments. New positions. We rode a lot standing up. I guess if you're going 266 m. up a pleistocene grade you better stand up. What goes up then makes a drastic down. We not only push down on pedals on this climb, we drive them up and across on the way around as the foot circles, as we go up and down that grade. For this maturing athlete that was almost too many directions for maturing body parts. Sweat was beading up quickly on my brow.

Our spin doctor continued spinning. Words and wheels. She described the mountain scrub we'd notice if we weren't looking through a fog of sweat and visible breath. There was water in their somewhere. Something about the confluence of oceans and gulf streams and... well, I really didn't get the rest. She talked about the low cost of good wine (5,00 €), good rooms (100 €), the viable pure beauty, persuading us further that this climb was benefiting us. Driving us to distraction, molding the truth just so.

She's good. I needed the towel. Over a liter of water gone from my bottle. An hour gone by and the visit to the Canary mountains and spin class was over.