Tag Archives: reflection

March Madness

It’s that time of the year…

No, I’m not talking college basketball, brackets, and the sweet sixteen.

It’s report card time, and I can feel the March madness starting to seep in. That insidious doubt that narrows my vision and makes me doubt what I know to be true.

If I weren’t writing report cards right now and you asked me to describe student learning in my classroom in one word, I would say blossoming.

Our students are blossoming. They are reading and writing eagerly. There’s a sense of confidence and fluency among this group of 6, 7, 8, and 9 year olds that defies grade level benchmarks. Last week when students learned about how reasoning could make their evidence more compelling in a piece they were writing about this special place where they live, they were undaunted and dug in to add reasoning to their evidence, carefully explaining just why the beach makes this place special and why having a family owned donut shop matters to them. A line like this one makes my heart sing… A second grader describing an iconic statue in our community that makes the community a special place to live wrote: We also have a Cardiff Kook that loves to get dressed up. I think everyday is Halloween for him. And I want to shout from the rooftops when I read an ending like this one a third grader used to close the essay: So where were we again in the beginning? Oh yes, the beach. Now the sunset kisses the dusk with oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, purples, and blues too beautiful to explain, and as you see the last foamy white whale spout on the horizon, there’s no doubt Encinitas is a very special place.

Of course they weren’t written on demand in an decontextualized setting. They are the result of rich discussion and leveraging of background knowledge, a writing community where revision is ongoing and expected, instruction that encouraged students to go back and add reasoning to their claims and evidence, and a space filled with mentor texts that highlight and celebrate beautiful language. These complex sentences mean that the punctuation isn’t perfect…and the vocabulary students use push them to depend on phonics to express the words they don’t yet know how to spell, but honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But I know the first thing people see when they look at student writing is the mechanics…and that sometimes it can stop them from even noticing the beauty of the language and composition.

And then there’s math. All year we have worked to develop a strong sense of number and the ability to solve real life (or as close as you can get in a classroom) mathematical problems. So why did we hand our students traditional equations to solve? March madness is my best excuse. Luckily I took the time to look closely and notice that every one of our third graders competently solved a problem that featured Alexander Calder and his wire circus–and required both multiplication and division to solve. And the majority of them solved three different versions of the problem that varied the level of difficulty! (Thank goodness we decided to add that problem to our assessment to represent the kind of problem solving we have worked on all year!)

And most people don’t even ask about students’ programming skills, design abilities, persistence and resilience, empathy…or even their dispositions as budding scientists. (You can read a bit about that here and here)

So, as I write report cards I’m trying to remind myself to breathe…and focus on the blossoming, pushing against the March madness. Are all our students right where we want them to be? No. Is there still room for growth? Of course! Can I improve my instruction to better support student learning? Yes–and I’m working on that every day.

But, our students are blossoming. And I want to make sure that the way I communicate progress helps their families and other educators see all that they can do, all the ways they have grown as learners…and help our students recognize that growth can be measured and documented in lots of ways. And also know where they need to continue to work and grow…because learning continues for a lifetime.

I understand the importance of accountability and communication in our educational system. I want to make sure that students are making progress and not slipping through the cracks. But I also want to honor hard-earned growth and pay attention to the attitudes and processes that aren’t measured by standardized tests or traditionally reported on through report cards and assessments.

I’ll keep pushing against the March madness…and once the report cards are done, maybe I’ll watch a bit of basketball…

Appreciating Stillness

3 Replies

As I waited for the passengers to board my flight home, my inbox delivered an article on stillness and its benefits…and the ways that we avoid stillness…by using our devices (to read that article, ironically enough) and keeping ourselves busy, busy, busy.

This weekend has been a nice exercise in stillness for me. Somehow, with my camera in my hand, I find myself watching and waiting, listening to my own breath and noticing nature’s breath too (even in the city). There’s so much around me that I don’t capture in photos, but because I am looking for interesting photos, I notice. (I have written about this idea before here.)

A hike yesterday took us out in the rain and wind into a park in Seattle. Not quite knowing where we were going, we headed out for a shore hike hoping to catch a glimpse of a lighthouse way out on a point of land that we couldn’t drive to. The wind and rain made me zip my jacket up to my chin and tuck my camera inside my coat for a while. Bare trees swayed, rubbing branches against branches, creaking and groaning. Most seemed to flex, but there was also evidence of breakage along the way. We made our way down some steep twists and turns and were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of that elusive lighthouse. Knowing we’d have to climb back up however far we went down kept us from going all the way to the bottom for a closer view.

We got back to a trail that would loop us back toward our car and continued to listen to the wind, feel drops of rain bounce off our hoods, and notice winter’s rainy splendor of leave littered ground, bare branches, and evergreens shaking off some excess water drops. Geoff’s eagle eye spotted a bright yellow mushroom and some local hikers were amused as we squatted low to the ground to photograph this beauty.

Earlier in the day, as we left Port Angeles, we took a bit of a side trip out to the Dungeness Wildlife Refuge. Alone in the stillness, we noticed how weather batters the trees and cliffs and off in the distance we could see the mountains we had climbed the day before wrapped in fog.

We headed into the city center of Bainbridge Island to find a place to relax with a cup of coffee and check in for today’s flight home. Even in the bustle of the coffee shop, I found a bit of stillness as I watched people, sipped coffee and nibbled on a crispy ginger cookie. My mind felt relaxed, not racing ahead to the next thing that needed to be done. We wandered around the island a bit, finding a walking trail around the marina, watching sea birds glide on the currents as everyone else seemed to be hunkered down in preparation for the big game. Seattle Seahawks were playing the Green Bay Packers for the divisional title…at home. We tried to time our arrival in Seattle for after the game had begun.

As we waited for the ferry, parked in our rental car, the rain poured down, creating a little bubble of solitude around us. I noticed the bright yellow slickers and tall rubber boots that must be the uniform for ferry workers…having the right kind of clothes for the weather makes all the difference!

The rain stopped right before we drove onto the ferry, and once parked, we headed up onto the viewing decks. While it was warm and cozy with lots of comfy chairs inside, I feel better outside on a boat…and the picture taking is better there too! We found a spot under an overhang, with a bit of protection from the wind where we could watch Seattle come into view. The whistling wind sounded almost like native American flutes in the distance, welcoming us to the city.

We checked into the hotel just as the football game went into overtime and by the time we were on the 14th floor, we could hear the roar that signaled that the Seahawks had won! Horns honked, people danced in the streets dressed in blue and green waving flags with a 12 on them (the city is clearly part of the team…the 12th member on the field at all times!). As we walked down to our favorite doughnut and coffee place a couple of blocks away, we could feel the camaraderie of the city, gathering together to celebrate this win that almost didn’t happen.

Strangers chatted and re-hashed the game as we navigated the powdered sugar and dripping jelly of the most delicious doughnuts…and even better coffee. There is stillness even in the hustle and bustle of the city, if you stop to find it.

And we went to sleep to an amazing view of the Space Needle from the window in our room, knowing we would make one more trip to Top Pot in the morning to gorge on doughnuts and coffee before heading to the airport.

And after reading that article as people boarded the plane this morning, I gazed out the window, lost in my thoughts, watching planes coming and going, thinking about stillness. I’m grateful for a weekend of stillness, of quiet and reflection, and for the opportunity to spend time just being…with someone I love.

I’ll be looking for some moments of stillness to squeeze into my everyday life…and remind myself not to turn to my devices to fill that precious down time.

Taking Time to Explore

10 Replies

I’ve been debating on a word to call on as a muse for 2015. I’ve been looking for a word that is active…that will push me to move out of my comfort zone, challenge me mentally and physically, and will work for both my professional and personal life.

And today’s adventures pushed me to decide.

We knew we wanted to squeeze one more hike into these precious days off…something a bit out of our ordinary choices. And when we left the house this morning in our hiking gear, with cold weather layers ready, we thought we were heading up into our local mountains. But at the gas station, we changed our minds and headed off on a two-hour trek to Palm Springs and the aerial tramway.

The tram takes you from the bottom of the mountain near Palm Springs to near the top of San Jacinto at over 7000 feet. What we didn’t anticipate were the crowds…or the snow. Each tram holds about 80 people and takes about 15 minutes to go from the valley to the mountain station…and there are two. We were lucky and only waited 90 minutes for our turn to go to the top. By the time we boarded the tram people were waiting more than three and half hours!

Once we got to the top, we headed off on a five plus mile hike…in the snow! And ah, it was breathtaking! As we walked away from the lodge, we moved away from the throngs of people who had come solely to throw some snowballs and slide in the snow. The sun shone brightly on the clean, white snow. We could hear birds chirping and our own breath as we climbed the mountain. We happened by this family of snowpeople as we headed out on our hike.

We reached our destination at 9100 feet! Crisp and white and fresh…Round Valley (the peak is another three miles up, we’re saving that for another day!).

The views were gorgeous! I had that same feeling of peace and relaxation that I get when I walk on the beach–a sense of the power and beauty of nature.

From the magnificence of the trees, rocky mountainside, and enormous boulders, to the fragile elegance of icicles and the reminders of what is yet to come from the pinecones…the wonders of Mother Nature surrounded us and wrapped us in her arms.

And for the cherry on top, as we got back into the tram for the trip back down the mountain, the sun was setting with the full moon in view. As the tram floor rotated 360 degrees during our descent, we were treated to amazing and colorful views of the entire valley below.

A friend reminded me that I could actually stick with my word from last year for more than a year…play has plenty more potential. I could probably stay with it for a lifetime. (And I think it will remain with me!)

But I’m ready to add to play…and this year my word will be explore. I want to explore possibilities and places, new ideas and old habits. I want my explorations to take me in new directions, to push me to try things I haven’t imagined I would ever do, like hike up a mountain in the snow! I look forward to exploring this year…physically, intellectually, imaginatively, and playfully. Hope you’ll come along for the ride!

And To All a Good Night!

2 Replies

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and magical winter holidays filled with family, friends, love and laughter!

Angular: Teaching and Learning on the Slant

7 Replies

For the last few days I’ve been in Washington DC attending the National Writing Project Annual Meeting, a conference for those connected with writing projects all over the country. In this space we come together to reconnect, learn together, and envision and re-vision possibilities for both our national network and our local sites. And while I was in this rich, intellectually stimulating space, I found myself thinking about angles, the slant that is essential in the work of learning and teaching.

Tell the truth but tell it slant. Emily Dickinson

The hallmark of writing projects has been their longevity (we’re in our 40th year as an organization), which attests to their ability to adapt to new mandates and contexts in education, their ability to remain responsive to changing needs in the educational community while holding on to their core beliefs, and their ability to innovate as they strive to anticipate upcoming needs and trends and develop more effective and relevant approaches to supporting teachers with the goal of improving the teaching of writing. And even in our own community, what that means and how that looks does not assume that we all agree or even that we all understand our charge in the same ways.

And as I consider my own learning experiences, my observations of others, and continue to think about presenting ideas to my own students and to my writing project colleagues I realize that the straight path is not always the best path. I can’t assume what I have come to understand over a number of years will be clear to others as I explain what I now know. I have to find ways to communicate the truth…but find the slant that gives others access. Sometimes looking straight up or straight ahead actually works to obscure your view and understanding.

As I spent some time at the National Cathedral yesterday, I started to see the embodiment of some of these slants. What I noticed as I walked into the nave…the main body of the cathedral…were the incredible angles.

Columns reached high, curved, and then met in angular points. In that expansive and intricate structure, I could feel the careful study of architectural soundness. I felt reassured that this long-standing building would continue to stand, in spite of some damage from a recent earthquake. And so I’m thinking about the underlying structures that inform work some of us as educators do around the concept of connected learning. How do we make the structures and educational soundness visible? What experience will adult and student learners need to feel the expansiveness?

There is a beautiful infographic that I’ve seen shown over and over again and that I have used myself, but like the beautiful stained glass windows in the cathedral, it requires not only a close look but an understanding of the underlying design, accompanied by some personal experiences related to the concepts to truly begin to make sense of it.

And like the stained glass window, light shining from outside reveals details and intricacies that are not otherwise noticeable. Rubbing emerging ideas and persistent questions against those of my colleagues works like that shining light, revealing nuances and pushing me to rethink and reconsider my own understanding. When I can see my thoughts reflected through the ideas of others, they take new shapes and create new possibilities like these intricate shadows the wrought-iron work reflects on the cathedral walls..

And while that sounds pretty easy and productive, it isn’t always that straightforward. There are more slants and angles to consider. Sometimes the learners and teachers must wander down seemingly endless corridors, making false starts and running into dead ends before finding their way in. But repeated opportunities to try and stumble, reflect and reengage eventually reveal a pathway—maybe not THE pathway—to understanding.

Sometimes you have to crane your neck while your nose is right against the window to catch a glimpse of possibility like I had to as I searched for gargoyles. And sometimes that view might be terrifying, monsters seem to come into view, until you realize you are not alone and there are other meanings to be made of what you are seeing and experiencing.

As I have reflected on my experiences this week, I am reminded of the value in taking a step back, considering other perspectives and the role that resistance (my own and that of others) plays in learning. How do I play the doubting and believing game (Elbow) in productive ways that opens doors rather than closes them? And how do I facilitate processes like these for my students and my colleagues?

I know it’s about the slant, the angular nature of our personal biases and the complexity of learning itself. And just like the straight path isn’t for everyone, I know that there are many slants to consider as we continue to learn ourselves and to support learners in this fast-changing, information-driven, connected world we live in. My trip to the cathedral not only allowed me to explore this beautiful national treasure and take interesting photos, it also helped me think about learning and angles and envision the role I might play in creating entry points and interactions to extend opportunities to consider alternatives to our current educational system. I’m looking forward to exploring the slants…and I’m appreciating the angular.

Blog Birthday: A Reflection

3 Replies

Today marks one year since I began this blog. I began with a 30 day blogging challenge for myself–creating an urgency to blog every day for 30 days in a row. And in retrospect, that was a smart move to help me establish a habit of writing every day, day in and day out, even when I wasn’t feeling like I had anything to say. In the last 365 days, I posted a blog post 293 of them…that’s a little over 80% of the days in the year!

This morning I had plans to read all 293 posts and then create some kind of reflection based on that reading. And while I think it’s a good idea to go back and read all my posts, I only managed to get through the first 30 days before my life called and I was off to the beach and running those errands that just don’t get accomplished during the work week.

(Making time to photograph and play pushes me to create more balance in my professional and personal life…a good thing, I think!)

I’ve noticed lots of bull kelp on the beach in the last week. There is something beautiful and fascinating about these large floats…definitely evokes the wabi sabi for me!

So instead of reflecting on the year’s worth of posts, I decided to highlight five from those first 30 days that continue to speak to me…and I know that I returned to their themes throughout the year–and may continue to return to them.

1. Dandelions: A Photo Essay – I noticed that I had a number of posts about my fascination with the ordinary, and what I learned about myself and my students by paying attention to small details. This particular post continues to be one of my favorites.

2. Fireflies – This is another post about something little–that many people take for granted. I loved learning that fireflies are the most ordinary of insects, and the most extraordinary! We southern Californians miss so much by not having these lights in our everyday lives!

3. Spaces for Learning – Hmmm…I just discovered I have two posts from last July with the same title! I like this one that talks about “third spaces” for learning, outside the spaces claimed by hierarchies and organizations. These are the spaces we claim for ourselves as learners. I’m not done thinking about this idea… and it keeps emerging over and over again in my life…as a teacher, as a learner, and as a human. (The other post was about Genius Hour, which is related…)

4. A Small Orange Bead – This post is really about the power of connections and connectedness as a learner. Opportunities to learn in a community create deep pathways and provide support that matters to learners.

5. Boys and Bears – There is a physicality to learning that we sometimes forget as adults. My observations of boys at the polar bear exhibit pushed me to think about how physical interactions have the power to pique curiosity and deepen learning experiences.

A year of blogging has taught me so much about myself as a writer, as a learner, as a photographer, and as an explorer in the world. It has heightened my senses as I lean closer to my surroundings to understand them and myself through my writing and photography. When I chose the blog title, Thinking Through My Lens, I wanted to play on the word lens to represent more than a camera’s eye…I also wanted it to represent my own biases, questions, and goals.

I look forward to another year of Thinking Through My Lens…and hope you will continue to bump your thinking against mine, sharing your insights and discoveries so that we can learn more about our world and ourselves, together.

A Place to Treasure

7 Replies

We often think about treasures as those tangible trinkets: an irreplaceable family heirloom, the lock of hair from your baby’s first haircut, the multifaceted diamond in your engagement ring, the lucky penny you wear in your shoe. They often carry sentimental value far beyond their monetary worth, representing events, memories, and stories to remember.

As I was thinking about treasure as the topic for this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge at the Daily Post, I considered the treasures in my life. Of course I have those tangible items infused with sentiment that carry treasured memories, but a walk on the beach today with my husband brought my treasure forward for me.

As someone who lives a few miles from the beach, it can be easy to take this treasure for granted. I don’t think anyone would argue that the beach is beautiful, but there is so much more to treasure.

The beach is a chameleon. It responds dramatically to nuances light and changes moods with even subtle weather changes. It can be wild and ferocious or calm and playful. Today was one of those picture-perfect February days that allowed me to roll up my jeans, tie my sweatshirt around my waist, and walk barefoot in the cool salty water.

I am continually fascinated by the wildlife, the geology, and the physics at the beach. This egret caught my attention today and let me get quite close as it investigated close to the cliffs. Egrets more commonly hang out at the lagoon and I seldom see them on the beach. This guy was quite interested in whatever lurked in the brush at the base of the cliff. He seemed to move in slow motion, jutting his head forward with each step. I tried to capture his movement in a short video, but he moved so slowly and deliberately I probably should have tried time lapse!

But what I treasure most about the beach is the opportunities it allows for time…time to think, time to reflect, and time to engage in deep conversation with a companion. Somehow, no matter how many people are there, you can find space at the beach.

There is a vastness that has a way of wrapping itself around you, shouldering some of the tension that weighs so heavily. Reflectiveness is a natural on the shoreline; the water and light play with each other, making connections and expanding views…creating opportunities for new understandings.

We left the beach after a long, meandering walk refreshed and relaxed having reveled in the natural beauty, the breaths of briny sea air, and the warm rays of sun that danced on our shoulders and cheeks. I often play with my iPhone photos in editing apps, cropping and brightening or creating interesting effects. All the photos in this post are completely unedited, shown the way the camera on my phone captured them, in their natural state.

I feel confident that those of you who live in other places, far from the sea, also have some natural treasures like the beach. What are the places that you treasure? What makes them special? I look forward to experiencing your treasures through your lens and through your writing!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Reflection

6 Replies

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

Reflection is one of those words that is layered with meaning for me. It can be as literal as peering into a mirror or as abstract as considering the way that wind, light, and life transform an image.

In photography, sometimes reflection is obvious…sunlight on water is one of those I notice often, yet never tire of like this photo of the sun setting reflected in the lagoon.

Sometimes I only notice the reflections when I go back and look closely at a photograph after I get home. In this shot of the fisherman my goal was to capture the sense of aloneness that comes with the overcast sunless sky. But there is something significant about his reflection appearing wavering in the mirror-like water at the edge of the sea.

Similarly, this photo of the giraffe at the Oakland zoo almost suggests another life in the reflection where the fences are not visible, and you can see the trees and shrubs that are less obvious in the actual image.

I love this subtle reflection I found in a creek in the Muir Woods. If you look closely, the forest is reflected in the water creating almost a multimedia collage with the leaves and sticks floating in the water.

]

And today I was intentionally looking for a reflection to photograph and wondered if I was going to have to resort to a photo of the sun reflecting on water. As I walked up to the Writing Project office I noticed the reflection of the courtyard in the windows of the building. (It turns out that it is a bit of a “selfie” as well, you’ll notice I am there in the reflection as well.)

So this week’s photo challenge is to represent your image of reflection. Do you find reflection in water, in mirrors, on shiny surfaces? Are your reflections lonely, filled with life, colorful? Share a photo that creates an image of reflection for you. 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 #reflection 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 reflection through your lens!

Stamina for Writing

4 Replies

Over at the NWP iAnthology, Janet Ilko has invited teachers to consider, “How do you build writers with stamina?” As a middle school teacher, she talks about how daily journaling is a way to build stamina in her young writers. (She works to build her own writing stamina through her blog, Writing in My Hand, as well.)

Stamina and fluency are important characteristics of writers. Fluency allows for the words to flow onto the page and stamina means working through the hard parts of writing to keep on writing, to rework writing, to improve writing, to understand the importance of writing to learning and thinking and communicating.

One of the ways we build stamina in our classroom is by creating a culture where writing is the norm. It’s no big deal…we write all the time. We write to explain our mathematical thinking as we explore math concepts. We write to describe what we are learning through our science labs. We write to learn about spelling patterns and grammatical concepts. We write stories, poems, arguments, and to share information with others. We write to plan, to remember, and we write to reflect.

This week we asked students to do some reflective writing in preparation for student-led conferences next week. We asked them to think about their learning in math, reading, writing, science, and with our iPads. And what I notice is that these students have stamina for writing. They know that writing gives voice to their learning. It matters to them, to us as their teachers, to their parents…and to each other.

We are a community of writers. And writers write. They write because writing helps them think, and remember, and communicate. And sometimes they publish too. But mostly they write because writing matters in our community of learners.