Who decided that parent conference week should follow springing ahead to Daylight Saving Time? I’m feeling the loss of the hour, the compressed teaching day, and hours spent talking…
So today’s slice is a 6 word photo essay…a portion of my teaching day.
Under Goodall’s influence: noticing, wondering, writing
Sand is both wonderful and annoying, but trust me when I say our beaches are better with it. Over the last decades, sand has been disappearing from our local beaches, shrinking the actual size of the beach that is not covered with water, eroding and undermining the structural integrity of the cliffs, and making our sandy beaches into tempermental rocky beaches that can only be accessed at low tide.
Over the years there have been some attempts to add sand to the beaches, bringing in big hoses to squirt large amounts of sand in very specific areas of local beaches. That effort seemed to fall in the category of too little to do much good. But recently a huge sand restoration project began on one of our local beaches. Orchestrated by the US Army Corps of Engineers, more than 700,000 cubic yards of sand was dredged from the lagoon, transported by boat, and then deposited via an enormous metal pipeline onto the beach–and according to a recent news article, doubled the size of the beach (for the price of $16 million).
Parts of beach have been closed over the last couple of months while enormous construction equipment pushed sand around, seemingly fighting against wave energy and the tides. The extra large boat became a familiar sight anchored off the coastline, and sand began to pile up.
A week ago we noticed that most of the beach was open, so we walked the new and improved beach. But the sand was deep and the angle of the beach was severe. Walking felt both hard and painful! How long would it take for the beach to get back to feeling walkable?
But on Friday when we walked again, the beach had changed again. Big trucks were flattening parts of the beach and spreading the sand further. The area near the water was much less steep and much more walkable.
Today as we walked again, I could really noticed how much larger the beach was. In early January, even at low tide we walked relatively close to the crumbling cliffs (with multi-million dollar homes perched precariously at the top). Today we walked a good distance from the cliffs and the water seems like it is not reaching them, even at high tide.
The most dramatic illustration for me was noticing the permanent lifeguard tower that I often photograph. Here’s a photo I took shortly before the sand restoration project began. Notice the rocks below the land the tower is perched on. Those rocks were always covered by water at high tide and were meant to protect the tower.
Today I realized that the water is quite far…and that the sand fully covers those rocks. I had to climb up quite a distance of sand to get where I could take this photo.
This sand restoration is supposed to last for a decade and be repeated then if funds are available. They just started this project at another local beach last week…and boy does that beach need it! We’ve been avoiding that beach lately because it is so rocky!
So, even though the sand can be annoying, clinging to every part of my body and depositing itself in my house despite my most careful efforts to mitigate it, I love it on the beach. The beach is definitely changed and I’m sure that not everybody is happy about that…but here’s hoping it helps with the severe erosion problems and gives us a bit more walking beach when the tides are not super low.
About a week ago I wrote about the work we were doing in my first grade classroom to prepare to create PSAs about things that needed more attention at our school. (You can read those details here.)
I thought long and hard about how to best teach my students to learn iMovie. The first thing I did was to create my own PSA using the same process I had taken my students through. I was definitely a bit rusty knowing the ins and outs of the iMovie app. I had to experiment and fiddle around—giving me valuable experience to share with my students. Finally I decided that I would start by showing my students in real time how to make an iMovie by making another right in front of them — and in fact having kids come up and do some of the processes for me.
We did the easy part first, and students got their photos into iMovie and created a title slide. Then we headed out to recess. I’ve learned over the years that doing complicated things around both sides of a recess is magical. You can get started…take a much needed break before things get too hairy and then return refreshed, but before things are forgotten.
After recess I showed students how to write a script and then record a voice over for their movie and then set them off to work. The classroom transformed before my eyes, becoming a workshop where students were focused on their movies. They helped each other, giving advice and support to their classmates as needed. I was on my feet, moving and listening, reminding how to edit, how to delete. I spent a lot of my time borrowing student headphones as I listened to their works in progress. My biggest challenge was our less-than-stellar headphones. Some crackled when they recorded. Some refused to play back. Over the next couple of work periods I learned to have those with the most problematic headphones go outside and record without using headphones.
It was so exciting to see the finished products–especially knowing that these first graders were able to create these iMovie PSAs on their own. Here is a student PSA created by a first grader last week and the plan he worked from.
But the best part of this whole process is when students started telling me that they were going home and making iMovies. They followed the same procedure we did in class: they took photos, planned something to say, and recorded their voices. I loved when a parent emailed me one of these creations! Students are now not only consuming digital content, they are also creating digital content!
Now to think about the next project… Any suggestions?
Whenever the tide and my schedule cooperate, I head to the beach for my daily walk. I knew the tide would be low enough today if I got out of my classroom as soon as I plugged the kids’ iPad in and cleaned up for the day. The ocean cooperated and there was plenty of beach for walking and the sun was shining, creating perfect conditions for breathing out the work week and breathing in the weekend.
There was a lot going on today. We noticed the bathing suit photoshoot right away, beautiful young models posed as assistants held light reflectors and photographers shot both still photos and video. Every kind of ball play was going on: volleyballs bouncing high, soccer balls rolling and spinning along the ground, and footballs spiraling in the air. Surfers paddled out, swimmers in bathing suits squealed as they played in the cold water, while beach combers like my husband picked up trash washing up on the shoreline. Seagulls chatted among themselves while other shorebirds poked the sand for an afternoon snack.
There’s been lots of sand work going on so I wasn’t surprised to see some pretty substantial tire tracks and big equipment in the distance.
But I was surprised when I noticed the lifeguard truck with lights flashing followed by the big truck carefully balancing the lifeguard tower. Wait–it’s not summer yet! They’re already putting the towers back out on the beach? Then my husband reminded me: spring breaks are beginning. And even though we are not a tropical location, and in my opinion the weather will not be bathing suit warm, we find that we are a spring break location.
There is never a dull moment on a San Diego beach. And that was certainly true this afternoon. I’m a little worried that spring breaks will mean more crowds–and I certainly know it will mean more skin! I might be walking in jeans and a puffer jacket and look across the sand and see someone in a bikini heading down to take a dip in the (too cold) water. But it does make me happy that there are lots of ways for people to enjoy the beach–it is truly a treasure in our community.
It never rains in Southern California… So the song says. And for many years in the last decade that has been true. But in the last couple of years, rain has become a regular feature of winter weather. I’m quick to acknowledge that we need the rain (and that a lot of rain may seem like a small amount to others given that average rainfall for San Diego is under ten inches per year).
And to top things off, the rain seems so unpredictable lately. Yesterday, for example dawned sunny and bright. The day was beautiful and warm, but weather forecasters promised rain by afternoon commute time. And they were right. It actually rained on me during my after work walk…pretty much on schedule. We had rain all evening and some overnight. But the rain stopped by the time my alarm rang, and the day was supposed to be dry.
So, given that forecast, I didn’t dress for rain. I even looked at my umbrella (I had taken it on Saturday to our conference) and told my husband that I wouldn’t need it and then headed out for the university. As I pulled off the freeway to make my way to the parking structure I spied a rainbow…and a very dark cloud. Raindrops began to splatter on my windshield. Oh no, I thought, my umbrella is sitting at home. And the walk from the parking structure to the office is not a short one.
I pulled into the covered parking structure and remembered the conversation my husband and i had last weekend. He was telling me there was an umbrella in my car. Really? I asked. I sure didn’t know about any umbrella in my car. It’s way in the back, in that supply bag I keep in there, he explains.
I’m feeling hopeful as I zip up my jacket, pull my backpack onto my shoulders, and open the back hatch of my car. Sure enough, a small green umbrella is tucked in with the roll of toilet paper, a roll of paper towels, and some other odds and ends.
Today it was a lucky green umbrella, keeping me and my stuff dry as I walked from the parking structure to the office with raindrops tapping a rhythm on the umbrella above my head.
I love picture books. I do have some old favorites, but I am passionate about reading my students newer books, especially those that represent positions and characters that haven’t historically gotten enough attention. In some years I look for stories that help my students see themselves, in other years I look for ways for my students to see beyond themselves.
We have an amazing school librarian who has been making an effort to make sure the teachers know about new books–especially those that represent diverse experiences and address issues of equity and inclusion. Big by Vashti Harrison was a book I had been hearing some buzz about, but I hadn’t yet come across it in person. So when I saw it in the basket of books in the teacher’s lounge, I had to pick it up. As I began to read it, surrounded by my colleagues chatting and eating, I felt drawn into a quiet place. It was just me and the words and images. My breathing slowed, my heart raced, and I could feel tears welling. The careful selection of words and the powerful, beautiful pictures grabbed hold of my heart. I needed to read this book to my first grade students, even though not a single one of them can be described as “big” in these terms. Maybe that’s why this book seemed perfect for them.
My class tends to run on the chatty side. They have a lot to say about everything. As I opened this book and started to read I heard a few comments about the baby, but as I got a few pages in a hush settled over the classroom. I watched students lean in, faces serious. When we got to the pages with no words (a powerful series of images), it was almost as if they were holding their breath. They stayed quiet and seemed to have a communal exhale as the book ended. After a breath or two, they had some things to say. They felt sad for the girl in the story and they were thinking hard about how the words had hurt her.
I read this book for a second time this week (I read it for the first time to students on Monday) because this book has so much to say. Again, my students settled into quiet attention. They paid close attention to the illustrations, noticing the use of color and space…and the ways that words were also part of the illustrations. We talked a bit about my favorite page…the one where the girl has a hand full of their hateful words and says, “These are yours. They hurt me.” as she hands them back to the people who used them.
This book won the Caldecott award and is a Coretta Scott King honor title and I can see why. I highly recommend this book not just for younger children, but for people of all ages. Bias–both implicit and explicit is something we can all learn more about and pay attention to in our daily interactions, especially as educators. And don’t miss the author’s note at the end! Add Big to your TBR pile today!
Back on Saturday at the SDAWP Spring Conference (I wrote a bit about it here. ), I attended a session called Seeing with Wonder: Cultivating a Deep Understanding and Appreciation for Nature Through a Creative Lens. The presenters, Wendy and Alice, encouraged us to slow down and participate in long and leisurely observation. During the session they asked us to adopt a tree–and since it wasn’t reasonable to be outside finding trees in the short time frame of the conference session, they had a collection of photos blown up, framed, and posted around the room.
I selected a moss-covered tree that reminded me of my time in Olympic National Park’s Hall of Mosses. I engaged in that leisurely observation, sketching and writing about the details I noticed. Wendy and Alice then led us through a different definition of Haiku. Instead of focusing on the 5-7-5 syllable structure, they gave us seven rules of Haiku. But most importantly, they encouraged us to compose a three line poem in the spirit of Haiku that was a single breath.
I’m not so sure I achieved all the goals of this one breath Haiku, but here is my Haiku from Saturday.
How many greens can you count
on this tree tapestry woven through the ages
a portal to dinosaur time
@kd0602
Mondays can be hard, but I have a colleague who calls out an alliterative daily mantra to everyone she sees. “Magical Monday,” she calls as she passes my classroom before school started this morning. “Magical Monday,” I call back.
Mondays don’t always feel magical, but today felt different. I headed out for recess duty with the sun shining on my shoulders. As I walked out onto the playground one of my first grade students ran up with an envelope in her hand. “Mrs. Douillard,” she said, “I wrote a poem for you!”
In our class we study a poem every week, write poetry with some regularity, and delight in metaphorical thinking. Words matter. They help us express ourselves, understand our world, and communicate with others. I love it when students take our learning outside the classroom walls and write for their own purposes.
My student pulled her poem out of the envelope to show me. “Will you read it to me?” I asked. And she proceeded to read:
Sea Sound
A sea sound is a heart broken.
A sea sound is birth from your heart.
Sea sound is you hearing waves dancing.
This is my poem
When I asked what inspired her to write, she responded, “It was the waves dancing.” She told me I could keep the poem and off she went to play with her friends before the school bell rang.
That is a magical Monday for sure!
In spite of the weather app’s optimism, intermittent rain has continued today. As we headed out for our daily walk with me wearing my comfy puffer jacket, I grabbed my raincoat–just in case. I love to walk on the beach, but this weekend the tides are not feeling like cooperating and in these parts if the tide is not low enough, there is not enough beach to walk on. So for today, after a bit of negotiating, we decided to walk at the local lagoon.
On our drive over the windshield was spritzed a couple of times, making me think I would be exchanging my puffer for the rain jacket. The clouds were gathering gray as we parked so I decided to play it safe and slipped into the raincoat, strapped my camera around my neck, set my watch for workout mode, and headed off.
It was the cormorants who caught my attention first. While they are residents of our coast, we don’t often see them congregate. I stood for a minute watching one with wings spread wide, drying (or maybe trying to dry) before the raindrops fell. Just then a head popped out of the water–a cormorant had been feeding and popped up just in time for me to watch!
Mist turned to raindrops. I tucked my camera into my jacket and pulled up my hood. Water droplets speckled my sunglasses, but the birds seemed unbothered. In the distance we watched terns gather and then lift off, almost as one, loudly announcing their travel. Buffleheads floated, egrets stood elegantly in the shallows, but it was the great gray heron that caught my attention.
Geoff noticed it in the distance first, noticing its size and wondering if it was a pelican before we were close enough to determine. It seemed unlikely since pelicans seldom hang out solo in the lagoon. A closer look revealed the distinctive characteristics of the heron.
From some angles they remind me of little old men…and then they stretch their long graceful necks and their classic profile is revealed. We got to watch this one take flight and admire the large wingspan as it crossed the river mouth. What a treat! It was definitely worth braving the raindrops to enjoy the birds today!
My alarm rang early on a Saturday. Today was our San Diego Area Writing Project Spring Conference! Before I got out of my cozy, warm bed I checked the weather app on my phone. Drizzle. Drizzle is not really rain, right? I decided against dressing for rain and opted for my Vans tennies and some black almost dressy pants to go with my cute sweater top. (I would have to open the conference, but I also had to walk a good bit to get from the parking structure to the conference venue on the UCSD campus.
About 5 minutes before I was planning to head out, I looked out the door and changed my mind. That was NOT drizzle–even by Southern CA standards, that is called rain! I rushed back to my bedroom, kicked off the Vans, changed into jeans with skinny legs so that I could pull on my cowboy boots–the dressier footwear option for rainy conditions–and then headed out the door wearing my raincoat with my umbrella in my bag.
With windshield wipers on high, I braved the slick freeway and low visibility, and as I approached the university, the weather began to clear. The ground was wet and puddly as I walked from the parking garage, but the sky had cleared a bit and it wasn’t even drizzling.
It’s hard to get up on a rainy Saturday morning to attend professional development–even when it is self-selected. But I knew once I arrived that the energy of the participants and presenters would carry me through. And I was right. Our morning keynote by our own Christine Kane focused on the value of conversation, how the best conversations reveal things about ourselves both to those we are conversing with and to ourselves as well. She referenced David Brook’s newest book, How to Know a Person, and shared some of his advice about being a “loud listener.” She also reminded us of the Chinese symbol for listening which includes the eyes (to see), the ears (to hear), the mind (to think), undivided attention (to focus), and the heart (to feel).
What a perfect set up for being conference participants! The three sessions I attended were excellent! Even with 35 years of teaching under my belt, I felt inspired and motivated by gems of wisdom and practice shared by the presenters. I enjoyed my interactions with fellow participants and left the conferences knowing it was a morning well spent.
My drive back home included one surprise rain shower along the way, but as I headed off the freeway toward my house, the sky was bluing and the sun was shining. As I stepped out of my car into the driveway I was greeted by tiny yellow suns sprouting right out of the driveway cracks. Dandelions! I couldn’t resist kneeling down to capture their light and glow. Nothing like a bit of sunshine on a rainy day!
Thinking Through My Lens 