High Tide, Low Tide: A Teacher’s Year

July 30, 2016 by Sarah Plum(itallo) 1 Comment

I spent this morning at the beach with my family. The sun low in the sky, its warmth just enough to remind you it’s summer. The salt in the air, carried by the sea’s breeze. The water just cold enough to awaken you, while still being warm enough to welcome you.

As I kept careful watch over my two boys – enthralled by the wonder of the crashing waves – my thoughts drifted to my students. Students I do not yet know, but worry over all the same. I began collecting shells, sea glass, and rocks, thinking of each of them as I plucked each treasure from the shore.

Each a treasure – no matter rough or smooth, broken or whole, big or small. Each a treasure.

Our students are not unlike these treasures. Some come to us whole, some broken. Some come to us rough around the edges, some smooth. Some come to us with big dreams, some with small hopes. But one thing is for certain – they are all treasures just the same.

This school year will not always be calm seas.

Just like high tide and low, we too will have moments when we feel ourselves drifting out to sea – overwhelmed by data, report cards, lesson planning, and so much more. It is in these times that we must look toward the beauty at our feet – the treasures revealed to us in our students by the receding waves of adversity.

I gathered one treasure for each of my precious students to come. I do not yet know their names, dreams, hopes, and fears. They, like these treasures, each unique in what they need from me and what they will teach me. I have in mind a place in my classroom to keep these treasures, a reminder of my students’ beauty and promise… So that I can look to them each day and in each season when the tide is low – I can remember why it is that I call myself teacher. A tangible reminder that will become theirs at the end of our voyage together this year.

Above all I know this to be true – that in high tides and low, there are treasures to be found. You need only look for them.

#DoYOU: Just Say No “One Size Fits All”

April 17, 2016 by Sarah Plum(itallo) 9 Comments

I’ve been an edublogger for almost four years now (although that term should be applied lightly as I’ve been more educator and less blogger as of late). I’ve noticed a trend: four years ago you’d see post after post about the goings-on of individual classrooms (with lots of authentic, unpolished images). Now the blogosphere and social media is filled with posts, images, and videos telling you (the reader and teacher) to do x, y, or z and why you should abandon a, b, and c.

As a teacher first and edublogger second, I have to say that I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated for new teachers, who may feel pulled in 1,000 different directions – and likely pit against the realities of their classrooms and the window dressing of social media (which the fantastic Jillian Starr talks about here). I’m frustrated for veteran teachers, who may feel like the many strategies and practices used during their successful teaching career are being called into question or labeled as “what not to do”. I’m frustrated for “in-between” teachers just hitting their stride in the profession, like myself, who now feel stuck between “what’s new” and “what’s working.”

After biting my tongue for months and scrolling on past image after image and post after post with the “you must do THIS” tone, it hit me like Monday morning on a full moon. We are, in many ways, doing to ourselves what we so ardently fight against legislators doing: making assumptions about classrooms other than our own and prescribing a one size fits all solution.

So this is my version of “you must do x, y, and z and NOT a, b, and c.”

Not every child will learn best sitting on the floor, a wobble chair, a rocker, a yoga ball, or while standing up. Some children will learn best at a desk.
Not every child will learn best with an iPad, or scanning a QR code, or making a video. Some children will learn best without a piece of technology in their hand.
Not every child will learn best by completing a craftivity, doing an interactive notebook, or finishing a recording sheet in a center. Some children will learn best with just a paper and pencil.
Not every child will learn best with a room filled from ceiling to floor with fluorescent anchor charts, laminated posters, or more bulletin board border than the teacher store. Some children will learn best with less stimulation.
Not every child’s behavior will be managed by classroom currency, a positive clip chart (yes, even mine!), brag tags, Class Dojo, or a positive note home. Some children will need a clip chart, color system, or “old-fashioned” phone call home.

Every child, however, will learn best with a teacher that considers their needs – not the needs of the child in a classroom clear across the country viewed through the lens of Periscope, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, or a blog.

What’s one size fits all in education?

The need for a critically reflective, life-long learner in the role of teacher.

I believe fully that our community of educators in this digital space is a blessing. I have learned so much, and I have grown so much as an educator. I feel blessed to have shared my knowledge with other educators, too. But with an audience of this size, those of us that participate in these conversations about our practice have to acknowledge that we don’t know the reality of those on the other side of the connection – and must frame our opinions, strategies, and experiences accordingly.

If your students benefit from alternative seating? Rock on! If your students learn better by reading on an iPad? Do it! If your students are motivated by themed decorations and lots of color? Keep it!

At the end of the day, I don’t know what’s best for your classroom. I don’t know your students – or you! I can’t possibly give you better advice or insight than you can give yourself by making something your own. Do whatever is best for your students and leave the rest in your browser history.

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Every Child Deserves to Be Heard

August 19, 2015 by Sarah Plum(itallo) 1 Comment

Last spring, a community-building lesson by a Denver third grade teacher, Kyle Schwartz, went viral. Ms. Schwartz gave her students the sentence starter “I wish my teacher knew…” and received eye-opening responses, which she shared on Twitter using the hashtag #iwishmyteacherknew.

I, like so many of you, was deeply moved by this lesson — though it is not unlike many community-building exercises used in classrooms across the country each day. This movement, however, served as a reminder of the importance of HEARING your students. The importance of validating their human experience.

As I’ve grown as an educator, I’ve come to know my core truth: Every child deserves to be heard. You have to know a student’s heart before you grow their mind.

I was so drawn to the “I Wish My Teacher Knew” movement because it spoke to this core truth of mine. It embodied the idea that children deserve to be heard — whether it’s anonymous or signed, whether they want to share it with their friends, the counselor, or just you. Children need a safe space to express the complex feelings that fill their hearts and minds. Without the validation of being heard, the space for all of those wonderful lessons you’ll teach will be insufficient.

Now I know you might be saying — “I did this. The kids didn’t ‘GET’ it. Their responses were silly. Can this really be worthwhile for my kids?” I think so. I’m not going to say emphatically that it will. You know your students best.

But I will say this — “I Wish My Teacher Knew” isn’t effective as a one-time event. Every child may not feel comfortable or know how to express their feelings and thoughts the first time around. Every child may not need to tell you something the first time around. Every child may not trust you the first time around.

This, like anything, is a process.

I created a create-your-own “I wish…” station to go along with the movement so that it is easier for teachers at all levels to open the lines of communication year-round — not just once or twice, or only at the beginning of the year. After all, life happens every day and a child’s circumstance can change rapidly.

BEFORE YOU BEGIN

Before you create your “I wish…” station, I recommend discussing confidentiality with students. This will, of course, look different depending on your grade level/maturity of your class, and your personal take on the subject. I give a talk about privacy and confidentiality at the beginning of the year in which I’m up-front with students about the scenarios in which students’ trust will need to be broken: if they’re being hurt by someone, if they’re hurting someone, or if they’re hurting themselves. This has never deterred a student from confiding in me, but it has strengthened our relationship as they are fully aware of the limits of my confidentiality.

Next, you’ll want to talk to your school’s counselor. One of the best allies we have as educators are the amazing counselors that we have at our schools that day-in, day-out, take on so much to keep our kids healthy, happy, and safe. Bring him/her into the loop — let them know you’re starting this initiative in your room, invite them into your classroom, and open the lines of communication. Odds are, you will need them.

Then you’ll want to decide if you want students to have the “share out” or “reply to me” options on their “I wish…” notes. While I personally love the idea of allowing students to request and receive peer support, there does need to be a clear structure and expectations for the interactions in place. For my classroom, that means my students need to know how to discuss sensitive issues with one another, know how to display empathy, and know how to help each other problem-solve. Our amazing school counselor (love you, Mrs. Gruman) teaches lessons throughout the year that guide students in peer-interactions so our kiddos have a knowledge-base to draw from. This is where the above step becomes CRITICAL!

Finally, decide how often you’ll check-in and respond, and what your next steps are if a child needs additional help. It’s important to know what you’ll do in a situation where a child has disclosed something that warrants additional attention, resources, or discussion. For instance, I had a student disclose that their clothes hurt because they didn’t fit. I was able to connect that child with resources that provided them with some appropriately-sized clothing. I wasn’t able to specifically remedy every situation brought to my attention, but I was able to address many of my students concerns or find someone who could.

CREATING YOUR STATION

I highly recommend creating a dedicated place in your classroom to house your “I wish…” station. I chose to put it in our classroom library, which is tucked away and more private than other areas of our classroom. This is also an area where students feel comfortable, which was important to me. I didn’t want students to have to write at their desks or in the writing center, which can sometimes be high-traffic (it’s a popular choice and right next to our sink).

I use a set of heavy black cardboard boxes I got at Michaels as our “mailbox,” but an empty Kleenex box will surely do the trick! To spruce up our box, I used this transfer method to create a chalkboard-look. I wanted to include the statement “You’ve been heard.” I also placed an anchor chart above the box so that students could refer to it, and placed a smaller black box within it that contained a few notes options (lined and unlined) and my “receipts” next to it. For ease of use I also placed some pencils and erasers next to it and two clipboards, so that students didn’t have to return to their seats in order to write their notes.

USING YOUR STATION

Before you allow students to use your “I wish…” station, have a class meeting. This is the time to set expectations and boundaries with your students — the time to talk about confidentiality, both between you and them, and between them and their peers. It’s also the time to talk about what it means.

Whenever I have to explain a tough topic, I use a read aloud. Pick your favorite fiction text that includes a character experiencing a real-world problem. (When we began using this station last year we had just finished reading The One and Only Ivan, so that is the book we used.) Read aloud the text with students, stopping to jot — either on a chart or with post-it notes — about how the character may be feeling.After reading the text initially, re-read and stop at the same points. This time, instead of identifying the character’s feelings, work with students to brainstorm what the character could write on an “I wish…” paper. For example, we talked about how Ivan felt seeing Ruby, his elephant friend be mistreated. We brainstormed the sentence “I wish my teacher knew that I feel helpless watching my friend be hurt by others.”

Allowing students to use literature as a model for this exercise takes the pressure off. Students can try out what it feels like to share some very raw and personal emotions without sharing their own. Because most students are already used to talking about a character’s thoughts and feelings, this will come naturally.

Next, model from your own life experiences. Think about an experience — happy or sad, you decide! — that you can share with your students. I shared with my students that when I was in elementary school I had to have surgery and miss a week of school. I felt scared and missed my friends. “I wish my teacher knew that I’m scared to have my surgery because I don’t know what to expect and I’ll miss my friends.”

Now listen. Using the procedures established — such as when a student could go to the station — let students write when they need to. Check the station at whatever interval you decide (I did it every 2-3 days) and respond as appropriate. Let the information students share guide your practice. I was surprised at how much of what my students shared enabled me to further shape our classroom to meet their needs… trust me, if they don’t like something (or like something a whole lot), they’ll tell you!

Building relationships with our students is one of the most important parts of our profession.

The teachers I remember the most about, the teachers that lit a fire in my heart for this profession… they are the teachers that made sure I was heard. They listened when I talked (or wrote) about new barbies, and they listened when I tearfully talked about my grandmother passing away. They heard my voice cry for help when I was bullied, and they heard my voice say I needed to be challenged.Hearing our students’ voices may not be a Common Core standard, but it should be THE standard I set for myself. My students deserve it.

Click here to download all of my station materials for free.

I’ve also included options for using this for your colleagues, and if you’re an administrator, your staff. Opening the lines of communication is SO important for a positive school culture!

Why I’ll NEVER Get Rid of My Clip Chart

August 2, 2015 by Sarah Plum(itallo) 15 Comments

I will never get rid of my clip chart. Ever.

I’ve read so many thought-out, well-meaning posts on clip charts — on both sides of the spectrum. I don’t know what’s right for you or your classroom… no one knows that but you. This post isn’t about what YOU should do. It’s about what I’ve done and will continue to do until I pack-up my classroom for the final time. Should you get inspired, invigorated, and motivated to do the same? Well, that’s just a bonus.

My clip chart helps to shape my classroom — and my beautiful students — into a caring community of productive citizens. Without it, I have no doubt that counselor and office referrals would rise, I’d spend a greater portion of my time on the phone telling parents negative things about their children, and the teacher-student relationship would suffer miserably.

I teach in a school of children in transition. Children that come from low socio-economic status households, many with both limited English language skills and limited educational attainment. Children that may change phone numbers, homes, and/or caregivers multiple times during the school year. We are a PBIS (Positive Behavior Intervention and Supports) school, which means we spend a lot of time front-loading expectations and use a tiered system of interventions. For many of my students, the only constant is me and my classroom.

I’m sure many of you reading this can relate.

It can be hard. Emotionally draining. Mentally exhausting.

It has been for me. It was almost too much.

Until my clip chart saved me.

Saved my classroom. Saved my kids.

Last year I spent the first month of school tying my clip chart into each and every language arts lesson. Every read aloud. Every writing assignment. We spent hours discussing our clip chart.

Caring, Fairness, Respect, Responsibility, Trustworthiness, and Citizenship are big words for children. For any children, but especially children whose primary concern is where their next meal is coming from, whom they are going home to, and where they’ll sleep that night.

They’re big, important, tough words.

But my kids? My kids lived them.

I have to tell you that as a teacher, no moment will ever be as important to me as the moment last Fall when one of my kiddos was having a hard time. He felt inadequate. Nervous. He felt stupid because he wasn’t sure he could finish an assignment.

One of my sweet little girls leaned over to him and said, “Remember that learning is a great responsibility, like Mrs. Plum says. Part of being responsible is trying. Just try. Put your heart into it and try. You’re going to do it — just believe in yourself. I believe in you and so does Mrs. Plum.“

Cue. the. tears.

As I (tried to) cry quietly in the darkness of the back of the room, I watched my sweet little boy try his hardest. And though he didn’t get it all right, he did his best. He was proud of himself. And I was too.

He came up to me later and said, “She really made me feel good about myself. She made me feel cared about. Can I put her clip on the chart and give her a tag for her necklace?“

Yes. Of course you can.

That was just one of dozens upon dozens of moments last year when my kids recognized each other’s character on our clip chart. There were many more moments when I did too. Small moments — helping someone up when they fell, sharing a piece of technology when their friend missed out the day before, turning their full attention to the speaker — and bigger moments, too.

Moments like the one when we had a few rough days. When we just weren’t in sync. When we sat down on the carpet, talked about what we wanted to do with our lives and then figured out a plan to get there. A plan that involved six little traits hanging on our wall, put into action.

Moments like that, that seemed almost too big for an eight year old to grasp… and yet, they did.

This isn’t your average clip chart, by any means. Students don’t start on the chart each day — they earn their way on. Each day is a new day, and not every day will end with a student’s clip on the chart. There were, of course, moments where we used our clip chart as a reference to talk about something they did that didn’t meet their expectations, their classmate’s expectations, or mine.

But it wasn’t about clipping up or down — there wasn’t any of that.

In particular, there was a time last year when one of my girls lied to me — as kids are sometimes prone to do. Instead of clipping down, or calling home, or sending her to talk to the counselor, we talked privately during recess.

She and I had a conversation — not a lecture — about why we value trustworthiness. She understood what it meant and we it’s so important to our classroom family. She was sorry. She apologized to me. She apologized to herself. We hugged. She ran off to play with her friends who gave her hugs too.

And that was that.

She didn’t take her clip off the chart (she had earned her way on earlier that day for demonstrating caring with our part-time inclusion students).

Taking her clip off the chart would send a message to her I didn’t want to send: you’re only as good as your last mistake.

Her breach of trust in lying to me did not erase her actions earlier in the day. It just showed us both that it’s an area we need to work on… together.

Mistake Quote - Facebook & Featured Image

The culture that our clip chart developed in our classroom is one that I will always look back to for the rest of my teaching career. We are a family because we have a core set of values that we think about as we interact with each other day after day. I can hold myself to those same values and reflect on whether or not I’ve met my obligation too.

I am immeasurably blessed to get to spend another year with my kids, this time in third grade. I’d spend the rest of their days in school with them if I could — we’re that bonded.

I know I owe so much of it to our clip chart.

I’ll never get rid of it.

{You can read more about the components of my clip chart alternative here and purchase it here. If you have any questions about it, please leave a comment and I will answer it.}