Tag Archives: writing

Finding Focus

Sometimes life is so busy, it seems to go by in a blur. Images are out of focus and it’s hard to see with any clarity. But mostly, when things get busy, I forget to take care of what matters most–my relationships with the people I love.

My one little word this year is explore. And as the year has progressed, I have discovered that explore means more than journeying outside and exploring the world around me. It also means exploring my interactions with others, the limits of my physical strength, and how I use my time outside of my work responsibilities.

Hiking in the mountains Saturday with my hubby offered me time and space to breathe deeply (even at 8000 feet of elevation!), spend time together away from chores and other work, and to appreciate the beauty of the natural world.

I took many pictures, but the ones I will highlight here are those that include both a sharp image and a blur–thanks to my macro lens.

The drought means that things are dry, even high in the mountains. And while we saw a few lingering patches of snow, it’s clear that water is scarce. But the manzanita was in bloom with its beautiful red wood and pinkish-purple blossoms.

I’m not sure what these little pods are that caught my eye hanging from the tree I passed. Small and green and fuzzy looking.

This plant seemed to have found a water source…with some green buds visible. If you look closely, you’ll notice a hair caught on the bud while the background is a blur.

These dry little thistly plants look like weeds…and I love that you can see the blur of the forest behind the crispness of the dry looking plant.

And here, the mountains are in evidence behind these dry branches.

It’s easy to get lost in the blur of the hectic pace of everyday life, yet these images remind me that we can decide where to place the focus if we choose. Life’s too short not to take time to explore…and figure out what is important. Sometimes the blur is the perfect backdrop, the broad overview, the hustle and the bustle. And other times we need to focus on what matters most and appreciate what is right in front of us!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Light and Shadow

Enormous Smallness: April’s Photo a Day Challenge

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Photography reminds me to appreciate moments, to slow down and notice light and shadow, a fleeting smile, the graceful curve of a limb and the reflection in a mirrored wall. Another blogging photographer I admire, Joy of Joyfully Green, just today said, (photography) “…literally lets me stop time for a split second.”

There is something enormous about capturing the smallness of moments–making time stand still–so we can look more closely, study the details, and savor what is often unnoticed. Paul Strand (among others) did that with his photography. A friend of mine recently gifted me with some Paul Strand photo postcards from the recent exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art…and I am inspired by the simplicity and grandeur of the everyday moments he captured.

And I borrowed the title of this post from the title of a picture book I ordered today about the life of ee cummings–a poet who captured enormous smallness through his poetry. It seems fitting to celebrate the special qualities that photography and poetry share during April…typically a month that celebrates poetry (at least in schools).

Just this afternoon I was mesmerized by the buds on the orchid plant that nearly didn’t survive some time outdoors during our recent kitchen remodel…and the afternoon sunlight highlighted the enormous smallness of these emerging blossom.

And this tree that grows near my driveway often appears in photos when the sky catches my eye…like this sunrise a week or so ago.

Sometimes the enormous smallness is found in places where I share experiences–and food–with friends and family. And the people who accidentally appear in them serve to enhance that quality, like this photo of the Shake Shack in Washington DC…

or this from the inside looking out from Milk and Honey in Baltimore. (I like the way the words are reversed since I was photographing from the inside rather than the outside.)

Sometimes it’s in the grandeur of the mirrored high-rise that I notice the reflection of the neighborhood…

or the durability of historic architecture that reminds me that there is much to be learned by reading the world rather than solely depending on books.

Then there is the interplay of past, present, and future in our nation’s capitol–the place where government resides, but doesn’t live. Our laws and values are enacted in our neighborhoods and cities, but there is something about buildings like the capitol building that remind us that what is national is also local.

And in my local community where this historic movie theatre still hosts first run films, a place where people gather in the shadows of those who settled this area before the streets and infrastructure that we take for granted existed, we see that our lives interact with those who came before and will influence those who come after us.

So April’s photo-a-day challenge is to seek out enormous smallness, the beauty in the everyday, the complexity in simplicity, making meaning of seeming chaos. If you need them, here are some prompts to get your started:

1. April Fools

2. history

3. place

4. outdoors

5. new

6. family

7. work

8. poetry

9. laughter

10. inside

11. misery

12. in front of

13. behind

14. tears

15. life

16. tired

17. energetic

18. writing

19. fear

20. house

21. wheels

22. doors

23. nature

24. advocate

25. old

26. near

27. eyes

28. food

29. small

30. enormous

So for April, find the poetry in the everyday…be on the lookout for enormous smallness. Pick a single photo to post each day or create a gallery of your efforts. Post a photo or gallery each day with the hashtag #sdawpphotovoices to Twitter, Instagram, Flicker, Google+ and/or Facebook (the more the better!), so that we can all enjoy the posts. If you would like to expand your exploration, write the poem or the story of the photo, compose a blog post about a photo, a week’s worth of photos, write a photo essay, or make a video or slideshow. You are invited to create a pingback by linking to this url or post your blog address in the comment section. It’s fun for me to see what others are doing with the same prompts I am using!

You can post every day, once a week, or even sporadically throughout the month…whatever works in your life. You can post your pictures in the order of the prompts or post the one you find on the day you find it–or make up your own prompt for the day or the week! You get to make your own rules as you seek out your own enormous smallness. Be sure to share and tag your photos with #sdawpphotovoices so we can find them!

Appreciate those moments…and be on the lookout for instances of enormous smallness in your life. I can’t wait to see what you capture through your lens!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Monumental

Fresh Eyes

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I live in a place where there are plenty of beautiful and interesting things to see…and I work to see my place anew each day. But it’s hard sometimes. And sometimes I end up seeing the same things I always see.

And I think that happens for students too. The classroom becomes familiar and learning looks like the same old thing. That’s where field trips come in…they offer opportunities for students to see learning through fresh eyes, in a different context, in a different place.

I was definitely feeling the need for some fresh eyes today. After working for eight straight Saturdays, today was rare free one and we made plans for a “field trip” to the desert. We’re lucky here in San Diego, we have coast–beautiful beaches–near where I live and not even two hours to the east, we have the desert. So today, we headed to the desert to see what spring had to offer.

We were hoping for a riotous spring bloom knowing that we’ve had a bit of rain since the new year. But once we arrived, we learned that spring had sprung…in February! Luckily, there were still beautiful desert flowers in evidence–maybe not a riotous display, but definitely worth the trip.

Our first glimpse of the desert this morning came from above. As we looked over the valley below, we noticed the quiet. I caught this moment of my husband drinking in the silence.

The desert is already warm this time of year, so we set out early for a hike, knowing it would likely be near 90 degrees by the time we got back to our car. We watched for desert flowers, for snakes (especially rattlesnakes), for big horned sheep, and birds and bugs too. And we weren’t disappointed.

The cholla cactus (the first photo), was pretty plentiful and many were blooming. The prickly pear was less obvious, and many were not blooming. I felt lucky to catch this one right near the end of our hike!

Lizards skittered across our path, sunned themselves on rocks, and raced into cracks in the rocks. Butterflies, moths, and bees were drawn to the plentiful yellow flowers. I noticed this caterpillar hanging from a slender stalk. (Love that caterpillars will pose!)

The snake we saw was slithering in the spaces between rocks…and luckily we only caught a glimpse…and it didn’t appear to be a rattler. We didn’t linger–no sense tempting fate when it comes to snakes! But we did catch sight of some big horn sheep. There was quite a group–12, I think–coming down to a stream near the oasis we hiked to. Here are a few we watched from some rocks above.

Their coloring is amazing–making them nearly invisible in the rocky locale. We saw babies as well as adults…you can see them stopping to check out whether to bolt back up the hillside!

It was surprising to see a waterfall deep in the desert. We could hear the running water before we saw it. And the California fan palm, the only palm tree native to California, completed that iconic image of oasis. Shade, water…and a nice place to rest before heading back into the hot sun to finish our hike.

My husband snapped this shot of me traversing a shallow portion of the small stream!

I feel like I got to view spring through fresh eyes today. I was looking closely and responding to novelty. I snapped photos and then when I returned home, looked up information about some of what I saw. I had to try and retry framing my shots, not sure how to capture the tall ocotillo reaching up toward the hot desert sun with the desert cliffs as backdrop.

Today’s field trip was just what I needed…a chance to see the world with fresh eyes, to go beyond the familiar and rekindle my interest in learning about this place I call home.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Study

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Anyone who reads my blog with any regularity knows that I spend plenty of time on the beach. And with my camera in hand, I find that I often begin to study the things that I see through my lens. I’ve been drawn to seagulls lately…as evidenced in the photo gallery above (all images posted on my blog over the last few months).

And as I take photos of seagulls, I have also studied them. Noticing their habits, their preferences, their personalities…and more. As I walk along the shore, I am drawn to the crowd of seagulls. They seem to be social creatures, gathering together to hang out. They seem to have some favorite spots…and I walk through them on a regular basis.

I love the way they casually walk away from me as I come near. Seldom do they take flight as I approach, they just seem to shuffle over a bit as they keep a close eye on my movements.

I am always surprised by their adaptations. The runoff from the storm drains flows into the ocean near the lifeguard station at our local beach. I am assuming that this is fresh (ish) water (at least not salt water). I often see seagulls taking a drink from this runoff–in spite of the fact that we humans get regular warnings to stay away from this water–especially after the rain because of the risk of bacteria. I caught this guy in action, taking sip from the flowing runoff.

I love to watch seagulls in flight. They seem so carefree and graceful in the sky…when they are not squabbling with one another over a bit of food. This guy today was nice enough to fly right in front of my camera.

And there are times when it seems that the gulls take to the sky in a carefully choreographed dance, floating on the air waves, dipping and turning, swooping and gliding. I notice this most often in the late afternoons when I squeeze a walk in after I am done with work. There was a beautiful performance going on this afternoon as I headed back to my car for my drive home.

So…what are you studying through your lens? Nearby birds? The light in the afternoon? The way snow melts? The plants in your garden or the tree you pass on your way to work each day? If you haven’t yet studied…this is your week for a mini study!

I share my photography and writing on social media. You can find me on Instagram and Twitter using @kd0602. If you share your photos and writing on social media too, please let me know so I can follow and see what you are doing. To help our Weekly Photo community find each other, use the hashtag #study for this week and include @nwpianthology in your post.

So take a look around…what are you noticing? What questions does it raise? Use your lens as a tool for closer study… I can’t wait to see what you are learning as you study through your lens!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Action!

Architecture: The Structure of Learning

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We have a beautiful urban park here in San Diego. Open space, trees, a lily pond, fountains, trails, museums and restaurants…including some ornate and historic architecture that dates back to the Panama-California exhibition in 1915. In these storied surroundings, I’ve been spending time with a group of formal and informal educators investigating ways to improve school field trips through a project we call Intersections. (I’ve written before about it here and here.)

As I spent the day at the San Diego Natural History Museum today, observing a group of high school students on a field trip, I found myself thinking about architecture.

As the educator-researchers in our group discussed what we observed watching students during their field trip today, our conversation moved to the carefully planned structures that support students’ independence and dispositions toward learning. Field trips have traditionally depended on adult-centered structures that keep students “on-task,” ensuring that the trip has documented educational value in the form of completed packets of answered questions rather than trusting students to be interested in what they find in front of them.

Over lunch, our Intersections leadership team chatted with an external evaluator–a part of our larger National Science Foundation grant– about our observations and tentative conclusions. And we found ourselves thinking about and talking about all the learning that happens that we are not able to document. When we take students outside the classroom, what are we hoping for? What can they learn that the classroom environment doesn’t offer? And why then, do we keep trying to make field trips more like school?

As I look at this photo of a young woman using her cell phone to photograph an owl, I wonder how we encourage students to use tools and processes they use outside of school to support their own learning. How will this student use this photograph? What was she aiming for as she composed the image? How can students’ digital lives interact in positive ways with their school lives?

And as my colleague described her understanding of the development of social capacity, a concept important in her binational work, my understanding of the learning that happens on field trips continued to evolve. A field trip is not a classroom lesson, it is a social event, a shared learning experience outside the school environment. And while students certainly learn some content, they are also developing social capacity–as representatives of their school and class in a public arena. They are navigating unfamiliar spaces, coming in contact with people they don’t usually see, interacting with adults–docents, volunteers, vendors, scientists, researchers–and exploring materials not present in their classrooms and schools.

And in the best of situations they are figuring out how to interact with the space, people, and information in meaningful ways. I loved this informal game I observed today…a chaperone and his group spontaneously started counting the animals they spied in this coastal sage environment. Someone saw 9…and another saw 12, someone else saw 15. They started pointing them out to each other, looking closely, naming what they saw.

And another researcher watched a pair of students challenge each other on the native/nonnative quiz in the patio area. The goal was to win…and the game was calling on prior knowledge and combining it with what they were observing in the exhibit. And they were having fun…being social, laughing, enjoying themselves…and learning.

So what is the underlying architecture of a successful field trip…that structure that enables students to engage in learning on their own terms? That takes advantage of the place and the richness of expertise and artifacts that aren’t present in the classroom? And that honors the beauty and elegance of learning…not for a grade or a test, but because we are inspired and motivated to learn because we are learners–driven to make sense of our world, on our own terms.

March Madness

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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…

Seeing Orange

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In spite of the rain on Sunday and Monday, it seems that spring has sprung in San Diego. Today’s warm temperatures brought out the bathing suits, shorts, and lots of people heading to the beach. And there is plenty of orange around.

The vibrance of golden poppies, the amber of giant kelp, a hearty soup of fresh vegetables, pasta, and beans, hang gliders with sun shining through their colorful sails, beach umbrellas casting shadows as protection from the sun, a tangerine hanging from a tree, a tractor lumbering down the beach–used to protect expensive homes from eroding cliffs, and the sun dipping low on the horizon silhouetting the people sitting on the sand berm watching the waves roll. I’m feeling the shift from winter as the days lengthen…and we spring forward overnight.

What’s orange in your part of the world?