Weekly Photo Challenge 12: Skyline

Butterflies

Taking photos has taken me out of doors much more often and kept me alert for interesting things to photograph. I find myself taking new routes to and from work and pulling off the road when something interesting or unusual catches my eye.

This exercise in paying attention has the side effect of feeling playful and fun and has me noticing small details that might have escaped my gaze otherwise.

Yesterday’s walk on the beach was a bit different than usual. We had started off for a hike, but a detour changed our plans and sent us down the road to where my husband lived in college. We found a parking place (never easy in beach communities) and headed to the beach. We met very near this place many years ago when we were both undergrads…and walked this stretch of beach on the evening we met.

As we walked we noticed the changes on the beach and in the buildings along the shore. Temporary lifeguard towers have been replaced by permanent buildings and some modern designer homes have replaced beach cottages.

The sun was shining, but it was cool and breezy as we walked. There were still the die-hard sun worshippers tanning in their bathing suits along with dog walkers, joggers, and other beach strollers like us. Kids played in the water and dug holes in the sand. Sandpipers feasted and seagulls squawked as the bombardiers–the pelicans–cruised the skies above.

And then we saw it. Nestled between some rocks on the sand was a butterfly-shaped shell. And I had to stop, get low, and capture that unusual sight. Perfectly shaped by the sea’s tumbling waves, the shell was smoothed with its original curvature creating the illusion of wings in flight.

Butterflies are amazing creatures, light and airy, delicate and beautiful. It’s hard to believe that they begin as caterpillars crawling on leaves and end up winging their way through the air. Butterflies always feel like good luck to me, representing life and bringing life as they pollinate plants they visit on their travels.

This butterfly, carved by nature from a shell, seems to celebrate the long-term, complex, and happy relationship my husband and I have shared since we met that evening when we were in college. It represents our growth, our ongoing evolution as a couple, and the freedom we feel together. And maybe it also reminds us to be playful, to continue to explore and to learn, and to enjoy the moments.

The butterfly is resting on a shelf now…reminding us…

Making Biscuits

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I’m a bit behind in my participation in the Learning Creative Learning MOOC, put on by the MIT Media Lab, P2PU and sponsored by the MacArthur Foundation. So I am going back to last week’s activity, which involves reading Seymore Papert’s essay Gears of My Childhood and then using that essay as an invitation to reflect and write about my own childhood experience with object-based learning.

Unlike Papert, I don’t have an immediate memory of a particular object that influenced my view of the world from a very early age. (It’s probably more of a memory problem than of a lack of interest in an object!) But as I continued to think about influences on my outlook toward learning and curiosity, I found myself thinking of many different influences–most of them including important people in my life: my mom, my dad, and my Grandma Millie come immediately to mind. And then I thought about my experiences making biscuits with my Uncle Bob.

Uncle Bob (actually my dad’s uncle–so my great uncle) lived in a trailer somewhere in the same county where we lived and we would visit on Sunday mornings (I think). He would make biscuits and always invited me and my little sister to help him. (He seemed old from the time I knew him and we were very little girls at the time) We would climb up on a chair of the trailer table and watch closely as he kneaded and smoothed the floury dough. Then he would roll it out and hand each of us a drinking glass, the same kind we would drink 7-up in a bit later, and we would carefully cut the biscuits using the glass. He would then take the biscuits, place them on the pan, and put them in the oven. I still love biscuits, especially when they are made from scratch like that!

And I think the important lesson I learned from that drinking glass/biscuit cutter is that the right tool for the job is often the tool you have access to. Uncle Bob didn’t need fancy biscuit cutters that were just the right size, he just pulled a glass out of the cupboard. And better yet, my sister and I each had one to work on cutting those tasty biscuits from the dough. We all worked together and, in spite of our age, were trusted to do this important work.

And to this day, so many years later, I know that using what you have access to is an important truth to experimenting, to figuring things out, to designing, and to feeling like making is within your grasp. I still don’t have to go out and buy the perfect kit or have the just right materials to get started with exploring…I just have to be interested, and it really helps to have someone like Uncle Bob (or my mom, dad, and Grandma Millie) around to support you as you’re getting started.

Reflecting on Weeds

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I’ve been pretty obsessed with weeds over the last few weeks. These much maligned plants are resilient, tenacious, and often quite beautiful…traits I admire.

On my way home from work today I noticed that the greenhouses I passed were ablaze with color, so I pulled off the road, parked and walked to take a closer look and a few pictures. And on my way I noticed this weed growing along the cement wall in a crack between the sidewalk and the wall.

When I got home I noticed that today’s Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge was reflection…and instead of thinking about the many photos I take of literal reflections (mostly involving water), my mind immediately went to this photo of a dandelion weed growing in the crack of a sidewalk.

I’ve reflected on many aspects of weeds in the last couple of weeks: their beauty, the role of a negative label, and about things that we see as expendable. Every time I see a weed I find myself thinking about its positive qualities…and wondering if a particular plant is seen as a weed depending on the context. After I photographed the dandelion weed I also noticed the salty susans growing wild in the dirt where the sidewalk stopped. I wondered…are these weeds or are they native plants? And really, what is the difference? If these yellow blossoms were in the crack of the sidewalk would that make them a weed?

And as I finished my parent-student-teacher conferences today I was thinking about the qualities the educational establishment values in learners. What about the students who don’t quite fit the profile of the ideal learner?

I heard a piece on the radio this morning about the rate of suspension and expulsion in schools of students of color…and know that there is no reasonable explanation for these statistics. These children are being seen as “weeds” in the system, intentionally or unintentionally, and this has to change. How we talk about kids and how we define success plays a huge role in the ways kids are treated in schools and other contexts. Plucking them out is not a viable solution…and there’s plenty of research to support that premise.

I think the answer lies in broadening our definitions of school success. I also think we need to consider what we expect of students. Do we want them to sit quietly or do we want them to learn? Is reading from a textbook or listening to lectures the best pathway to learning? How do we support students in finding their own experiences in the content we teach? What environments do we cultivate to encourage the growth of students who are quite different from each other? How do we engage families and learn from them and with them about their children?

For me, weeds are an object of reflection…and of fascination. And they generate question after question for me to consider as I strive to improve my teaching practice.

And watch out…I might just have an entire garden full of weeds one of these days!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Furry Friends

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Here’s the week 11 Weekly Photo Challenge prompt for the NWP iAnthology! (Here are weeks 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 if you want to look back or go back and participate.)

Children and animals always make great photography subjects. They are somewhat compliant…and they almost always look great in a photo! I’ve noticed, though, that as I’ve taken more photos and learned more techniques to improve my photography craft that my pictures of animals (particularly my cats Phil and Jack) have improved and I’ve captured more interesting pictures.

Lately I’ve shot a few photos of my furry friends as they seek the light. Here’s one of Phil. I love the expression in his eyes and the way the light crosses his face.

And just a few days ago I caught both Phil and jack cuddled into the small square of sun on the floor.

This one of Jack is a distance shot…something I don’t do much of in my photography. I have a tendency to move in close when I take a photograph.

And sometimes I like to play with editing apps to create something different than the usual realistic shot. I worked hard to get a shot of Jack meowing (he yells loudly for his food). I didn’t get the great open mouth, but I like the fun colors here. This filter is in the tadaa app and is called lucy.

So this week’s photo challenge is to share photos of your furry friends. Those furry friends might be those family members who live at your house, wildlife from the yard or the zoo or the farm, or some random animal you see when you are out and about. You get to decide what constitutes furry and friend! Post either the photo alone or along with writing inspired by the photo. I also invite you to use others’ photos as inspiration for your own writing and photography. I often use another photographer’s image as “mentor text” for my own photography, trying to capture some element in my own way.

I like to share my images and writing on social media…and I invite you to share yours widely too. (You might consider Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Google+) Use the hashtag #furryfriend and include @nwpianthology to make it easy for us to find and enjoy. You can find me on Twitter and Instagram @kd0602. I’d love to follow you if you share your handle.

You can also share your photos and writing by linking to this blog post or sharing in the comment section below. I am excited to meet your furry friends through your lens!

A Pink Fedora

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It was a pink fedora kind of day. What does that mean, you ask?

This is parent-student-teacher conference week. I love the opportunity to talk to families and yet, it’s a tough week for teachers. Three hours of back to back to back conferences takes its toll…and it takes those precious after school moments usually devoted to planning and preparation and pushes them aside to make room for the conferences. And, in conversation after conversation I find myself reminding students to be playful in their learning–that learning doesn’t mean routine and boring and something you dread. You have to find ways to make it fun and interesting. And that, in turn, reminds me to be more playful in my teaching and other responsibilities. I have to find ways to make my hard days fun and rewarding too.

It seems odd to remind children to play, but when it comes to school and learning they seem to think that the path to learning is narrow. They are looking for the one right way, which sometimes transfers to battles at home about that thing called homework.

I want “homework” to be curiosity and experimentation. I want students to go home and explore ideas that came up in the classroom. I want them to play with numbers and play with language. I want them to figure out new ways to express their ideas in words…and in pictures. And I want them to come back to school and spread that energy and excitement around. And some of my students do.

This morning, one of my students arrived at school wearing a pink fedora. It was the first thing I noticed when I walked out to pick up my students this morning. I could see him from quite a distance…smiling broadly and walking with the air of assurance that comes from knowing with confidence that a pink fedora makes a statement!

Somehow that pink fedora represents that playfulness I hope for in our learning community. Playful doesn’t have to mean silly or distracting…and that fedora was neither today. For me that jaunty pink hat was a talisman of fun, of individuality, of style, with a bit of hopefulness and joy thrown in. I’m not so sure that the hat will arrive at school again…and that’s okay. One day of the bright pink fedora reminds me…and helps me remind my students…to find the fun and the playfulness in our work and our learning.

I hope you had a pink fedora kind of day too!

Dancing with Sandpipers

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A while back there was a photo challenge on the Daily Post called three, which I misinterpreted to mean a photo about something with three in it. Instead, their focus was to tell a story in three photos. Ever since then, I’ve been meaning to tell a story in a series of photos.

Yesterday while walking on the beach, I noticed a group of sandpipers on the shore. I love these birds with their long thin beaks and gangly teenager legs. Most of the time I see them in twos or threes, but seldom in a large group. I walked toward them with my phone, wanting to edge closer to them to capture a photo. As I walked toward them, they walked away. If I curved around the other side, they moved together at another angle. I felt like I was herding these birds as they countered each of my moves with one of their own.

And then, all at once, they lifted off, wings in unison and landed in the surf a short distance away.

And instead of a story told by these photos, a poem emerged. I’m not so sure it’s right yet. I want to capture the elegance and the musicality of these birds on the beach. I’d love your feedback. What works for you? Where do you wish for something more, or something else?

Dancing with Sandpipers

They move to the rhythms of the waves

and the tides

to music felt rather than heard.

In perfect unison

they pirouette on long thin teenage legs

dipping skinny beaks into the spongy sand

in search of tasty tidbits.

I move in close

and they echo, like dancing with a mirror

until the choreography takes them to the sky

leaving me behind

to solo

alone with my lens.

Stars Emerge

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Writing is hard. Teaching writing is harder. And every once in a while the effort of teaching writing and supporting and inspiring writers comes together in ways that make your heart sing and tears flow.

I had one of those moments yesterday.

The first, second, and third grade bloggers were hard at work in our classroom. The room was filled with the productive hum of writers at work. I moved around the room, helping with inserting youtube links to the digital stories we had created, troubleshooting technical issues, and helping those emerging writers get their ideas pinned to the digital page.

One of my students called me over, asking for help with a formatting issue. And that’s when I noticed the poem. “Where is the poem from?” I wondered. “I wrote it,” he replied. “Will you read it to me?” I asked. And he did.

Stars

A poem

Two stars diverge sending each other down to earth like eagles mating, gripping each other so hard that before they descend and hit the ground they turn into dust. As all the stars shine and shimmer with a shine so big it blinds eyes.

The portal of time, a hole, may it be a dimension to another world? Might it have different forms of life? Or does it hold the keys to the past as you turn the engine?

May it be a beach of darkness or is it truly where your body is when you pass away.

Still a star inside, you shine, a star big enough to fill this sad place with colors and light up the world.

Are all the stars just a puzzle or are they illusions that move and move as you play the game, the game of life?

I have loved watching this writer go from a reluctant and troubled writer to a creative, confident, and willing writer over the three years in our class. Writers don’t follow easy, uncluttered pathways, instead, like stars and diamonds they emerge from from pressure and heat and time and the tumultuous intricacies of the universe. I am so lucky to spend three years with my students, it often takes that long for writers to emerge–finding both confidence and voice as writing instruction, practice, and a supportive writing community come together over time.

I’m still thinking about Brit’s poem…great writing does that. It ignites a fire in the reader, kindled by the writer. It’s burning bright and hot.

You might want to stop by Brit’s blog and leave a comment. I know I will.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Spring

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Here’s the week 10 Weekly Photo Challenge prompt for the NWP iAnthology! (Here are weeks 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 if you want to look back.)

It seems like spring is a tumultuous time of the year, the seasons shifting erratically–not quite sure whether to let go the grip of winter or to emerge into the growth of spring. Even in sunny San Diego, I’m not sure whether to head out in flip flops and a sweatshirt or to pull on my boots and cozy jacket…and sometimes I need both on the same day! But whether it has arrived or not, it seems that we yearn for spring as March progresses. St. Patrick’s day is right around the corner with its show of green and by the end of next week spring will be official.

I find myself wanting to capture images of spring lately. I couldn’t resist buying some daffodils at Trader Joes and then using my macro lens to look closely at the emerging bud.

I did the same with the shamrock plant, focusing in on the small white flowers that decorate the beautiful three-leafed plant.

But I was reminded that it isn’t all buds and blossoms when I walked on the beach and came across this lobster trap tossed up against the rocks in the storm last week. Strong waves wrestled with the anchored traps…as well as the kelp plants holding tight to rocks on the ocean floor, ripping them from their moorings and rearranging the beach.

So this week’s photo challenge is to share photos that conjure spring. It can capture the emerging life or the harshness of winter’s end…or something I haven’t even thought of yet! Post either the photo alone or along with writing inspired by the photo. I also invite you to use others’ photos as inspiration for your own writing and photography. I often use another photographer’s image as “mentor text” for my own photography, trying to capture some element in my own way.

I like to share my images and writing on social media…and I invite you to share yours widely too. (You might consider Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Google+) Use the hashtag #spring and include @nwpianthology to make it easy for us to find and enjoy. You can find me on Twitter and Instagram @kd0602. I’d love to follow you if you share your handle.

You can also share your photos and writing by linking to this blog post or sharing in the comment section below. I am excited to see how you represent spring through your lens!