The Art of Writing

 As I briefly mentioned in my last post, I did not choose education as my first vocation. I took a somewhat meandering path to teaching--one that began with my life as an artist. Before deciding to pursue education, I graduated with a BFA from a well-respected, four-year fine arts university. My areas of focus were fiber arts  (knitting, weaving, etc) and illustration (children's books), and these also happen to be areas of focus within the Waldorf curriculum. Waldorf schools place a great deal of emphasis on the arts--one of the reasons I first gravitated to the method--and the term "arts-infused" is frequently used to describe Waldorf education. As both an artist and educator, I am very interested in ways that I can integrate the arts with the general classroom curriculum. This lead me to read Beth Olshansky's article, Artists/Writers Workshop: Focusing in on the ART of Writing, published in the July 2006 issue of Language Arts.

  In her article, Olshansky explores a modified version of the popular Writers Workshop model of literacy instruction. This modified version is called the Artists/Writers Workshop and includes art and visual literacy as a crucial step in the authoring process. Olshansky writes,

"Artists/Writers Workshop is designed to create a democratic classroom community in which words and pictures are treated as equal and complementary languages for learning." 

The steps of the workshop (literature share/mini-lesson, work session, group sharing) are not changed to accommodate the Artists Workshop, but the content of the workshop expands to include visual analysis of picture book illustrations and the crafting of images prior to writing. Writer's Workshop places emphasis on the importance of materials for children: students should be offered independent access to a wide variety of writing materials, including papers of different shapes, sizes, colors and textures, as well as choices of writing instruments (pens, pencils, markers, crayons...). This choice is meant both to honor students' decision-making in the authoring process, and also to inspire children in their writing. The Artists Workshop expands this idea to give students independent access to high-quality, "professional" art materials, like paints, pastels, and collage supplies.

  I am excited and inspired by the idea of the Artists/Writers Workshop. I feel that this modified model would be effective across the grade levels for a few different reasons. In the younger grades (K-2), children naturally turn to image making as their preferred means of communication. The Artists/Writers Workshop is attuned with this period of child development, offering students the opportunity to craft an image first, and then use that image as an entry point into writing. In the later grades (3-6), I feel that the Artists/Writers Workshop would be beneficial for students who struggle to move words from mind to paper. Creating an image prior to writing allows students to express their ideas visually, and then transmediate those thoughts from pictures into words.

  Olshansky includes several quotes from children engaged in the Artists/Writers Workshop in her article, and I think they speak for themselves:

"Writing used to be hard for me, but now it is easy. All I have to do is look at each picture and describe some things I see. I listen to my words to see if they match with my story and they always do. Now writing is my favorite part of school."   --David, grade 2

"While I was doing the pictures first, words just started to grow and I got more and more ideas to write and I just writ and writ and writ until it was a finished book."   --Kevin, grade 1

"The pictures paint the words on paper for you so your words are much better. The words are more descriptive. Sometimes you can't describe the pictures because they are so beautiful."  --Serena, grade 6 

(Of course, I think I would be remiss if I didn't share with you a piece of my own art--a recent illustration for Number the Stars by Lois Lowry, painted using watercolor and gouache.)

Lights, Camera, Dinosaur!

As a follow-up to my post about Literacy Playshop, I thought that I would write about my experience putting the playshop into action. I recently had the pleasure of conducting a literacy playshop with a colleague  (Catie) and two kindergarten students (Camden and Ella) at a local elementary school. Catie and I arrived with iPad and art box in hand, ready to get to work--or should I say play?

  Camden and Ella's teacher allowed us to use her office as our playshop space, so that we wouldn't disturb the rest of the class during their Daily Five time. We started out by reading a book together so that the students could settle in and feel comfortable working (playing!) with us. After the book, we explained that we were going to make our own movie together, and it could be about anything we wanted. Immediately, Camden chimed in that he had seen a movie recently. It was about dinosaurs, and he could recount every bit of the plot, starting from the beginning. I asked Ella if she thought we should make our movie about dinosaurs, and she agreed. Catie and I then asked what we should use to make our movie: should we use our bodies to act it out? Should we use toys? Should we make our own dinosaurs? Camden and Ella were excited to make their own dinosaurs, and fetched blank paper to get started.

  I ran into periodic snags during the playshop when attempting to engage Ella in the process. She is a sweet, but very shy child, and is usually hesitant to get involved. When I invited her to join Camden in drawing dinosaurs, she balked. Thinking for a moment, I drew upon a strategy we learned for teaching early literacy: shared writing. Except in this case, I suppose it would be shared drawing (and this is where my training as an artist comes in handy!). I let Ella choose a marker color for our dinosaur, and then started drawing the head. Occasionally I paused and asked, "What comes next?" When Ella supplied the answer, I would hand her the marker and let her fill in that part, and she would hand it back to me. In the end, I drew the head, arms, and body, and Ella draw the eye, tail, and legs. She then colored in the paper dinosaur puppet.

 With setting and characters drawn together, and the plot hashed and re-hashed by Camden, we were ready to get filming. Then we hit snag number two: Ella felt too shy to participate in the puppetry, and no amount of cajoling could convince her to play. I then filled in as the other dinosaur characters with Camden, and Catie filmed the movie with her iPad. Ella did finally agree to be the "button pusher" on the iPad, and we were happy that she accepted a role in our playshop.

  Our finished film shows the elements of movie/story literacy that our students are familiar with: characters, setting, plot, dialogue, sequencing of events, protagonists and antagonists, humor, rising conflict and resolution. When we asked our students if we should name our movie, like writers name books, Camden offered the tile "Eat the Dinosaurs," a play on the title "Meet the Dinosaurs" (he insists this is the movie he watched, though we can't find evidence of its existance).

 Camden and Ella seemed to enjoy engaging in the literacy playshop, as I imagine most children would. Catie and I agreed that we were concerned about the feasibility of having 25 kindergarteners successfully utilizing iPads to film their movies. I can see the literacy playshop model working especially well in late first grade and second grade, when students have longer attention spans and better fine motor skills.

 Finally, how does literacy playshop meet my trifold standards for education?

•  Head: check, showing all the literacy knowledge I listed above
•  Hands: check, lots of moving, touching, and making going on
•  Heart: check, the students enjoyed playing/storying, and were able to incorporate elements from their existing interests.

A triple threat, and something that I envision myself using in my future classroom.

Literacy Playshop

Within the last few weeks I have read an interesting text about integrating play, literacy, and new media in early childhood and primary grades classrooms.  Literacy Playshop is a curricular framework developed by Karen Wohlwend that empowers children to draw upon their existing knowledge of popular media and use that knowledge to create multimedia productions. With a vision of literacy that is becoming increasingly popular amongst education researchers, children are not simply "writing" or "reading" in literacy playshop. A better verb might be "storying"-- developing characters, settings, and plots through the use of drawing, writing, acting, filming, and more. Children in the literacy playshop often start with a narrative or character that they are familiar with from popular media franchises, but with time the story will evolve to include problems and solutions from the child's imagination.

 I will confess that I came to the literacy playshop with some hesitation. Those familiar with Waldorf will know that the philosophy takes a strong position against giving children early access to technology, such as television and computers, and encourages parents to distance their children from popular media franchises. With  characters that seem to be designed more for adults than children, how could I disagree? Take one glance at the cast of Winx Club, a television show popular enough to boast a recent series of Happy Meal toys, to see what I mean:

 Yikes. Pass me the wooden play food, stat.

 Not exactly something I would want my six-year-old daughter emulating. Dr. Wohlwend, though, asserts that banning children from partaking in popular media is a privileged perspective. To be able to offer children alternative toys, one must be able to afford them, and for many families this is not a possibility. She also believes that educators should allow children the opportunity to share their knowledge of popular media franchises within the classroom--children often have deep wells of knowledge about their particular interests (often cartoons, etc), but few chances to express that knowledge. I can't disagree with that, and I do believe that teachers should honor their students' experiences and interests. A child who is struggling in traditional academic areas may be able to speak about his passions with startling depth, if only given the chance.

 At the moment, I am straddling both sides of the popular media fence, but I suppose my stance is this: Parents should be encouraged to be knowledgeable about the content of the media their children engage with, but ultimately the decisions that they make for their children and families are theirs alone. As a teacher, my job is to make sure all of my students feel included and respected. Therefore, I cannot ban popular media items/discussion from my classroom, though I should educate myself about the franchises my students are exploring, as some may not be appropriate for classroom consumption.

What do you think about popular media in the classroom? Have you ever conducted a literacy playshop in your class?

A Time to Celebrate

  As a pre-service elementary school teacher, I often find myself reflecting on my own elementary school experiences. What I have observed about my memories is that they aren't usually about a specific moment or conversation. They're more ambiguous--a feeling of what it was like to be seven or eight years old in a rural public school classroom. I find that most all of my fuzzy memories revolve around the seasonal activities that were taking place during various parts of the school year. The change from summer to autumn is especially strong in my memory. I remember clearly the feeling of a chilly, drizzly October day in second grade. The windows might be dark and covered with trailing droplets, but inside the classroom was warm and cozy. Autumn brought with it the smell of crunchy leaves on the playground, autumn poems and crafts in the classroom, and the always exciting change of the classroom bulletin board (in October, our names were written on die-cut leaves. In November, turkeys.). The essence of autumn culminated for us in the Oktoberfest festival, a yearly celebration that drew the entire town together for a parade and events that celebrated the harvest time and our German heritage. Soon after, we would begin to focus on Thanksgiving, and not long after that, Christmas and winter time.

 And so my childhood memories flow in a cycle from one year to the next, dotted with Valentine boxes and songs from winter concerts. It's not unusual for memory to be tied to seasonality and celebration. Festival life has been an anchor for humankind for thousands of years, providing a way to mark the passage of time and to form community bonds. In her article Community Celebrations as Ritual Signifiers, published in 2002 in Visual Arts Research, Deborah L. Smith-Shank outlines the important role that celebrations play in the lives of children. At their most basic level, celebrations provide a structure for our lives. Their ritual behaviors (such as blowing out birthday candles) and annual repetition give children a sense of expectation and safety. Additionally, the cyclical nature of celebrations allow us to simultaneously reflect on previous years' memories and anticipate future ones. Our shared experiences and anticipations bring us closer together as members of a community. Smith-Shank writes,

"Community celebrations are an important socializing force, not only for newcomers to a community but also for children. Through their participation in community celebrations, children learn to participate in the construction and the consumption of their cultures. They learn social expectations. They learn to delay gratification."

  Delayed gratification is quite often met with negative reaction in today's world of instant information and communication. It is, however, something to consider seriously. Delayed gratification gives us the opportunity to anticipate. It teaches children that the future holds things worth looking forward to--the special days that mark our shared existence.

Aside from their importance in providing children with a sense of time, place, and belonging, Smith-Shank writes that celebrations function as unique points of inquiry:

"[Community celebrations] can help us by answering significant questions about our histories, our communities, and ourselves. These rich storehouses of local legend and culture can provide us with information about history, art, family life, ecology, heritage, and ethics."

  When observed through this lens, celebrations are seen as an important form of literacy for children. They provide children with the opportunity to examine some of life's biggest questions: Who am I, where did I come from, and how am I connected? What does this ritual say about me? What does it say about us?

  Because celebrations are such crucial avenues of meaning-making for children, it troubles me how few opportunities for celebration I observe in schools today. I see almost no examples of celebrations that include the larger community, comprised of the entire student body, parents, siblings, and others. Slightly more often I observe celebrations that take place within an isolated classroom, such as a Valentine's Day party, but the type of celebration that I see taking place most often in elementary schools is one that is based on academic achievement, such as "Accelerated Reader (AR) Parties." These celebrations are part of a reward system for students who achieve a certain level of proficiency in an academic program. By their very nature, academic reward celebrations are conditional and exclusionary: children who do not meet the required level of proficiency are not permitted to attend. What are the implications of a childhood in which our participation in the celebrations that root us in time, place, and identity are not guaranteed? By excluding children from celebrations, what message are we sending them about their place in a community?

  Many educators have eliminated celebrations with cultural or religious origins from the classroom in an attempt to prevent children from other cultures from feeling unrepresented. Educators may also fear the reaction of parents who might disagree with having a child exposed to ideas and traditions from other cultures or religions. Although this elimination may be well-meaning, it has a negative effect on the classroom community: a group of students who possess a rich variety of experiences have fewer opportunities to share them. A formerly multicultural group is left cultureless. Instead of eliminating multicultural celebrations, teachers should make an attempt to include traditions from each student's culture, creating an atmosphere of safety and respect, where empathy and understanding is cultivated.

Celebrations are incredibly important to the life of a child: as structure, history, community-builder, and point of inquiry, celebration should play an active and vital role in curriculum. Educators should allow students the opportunity to experience celebrations that involve the classroom community, the school community, and the greater community around them.

A Look at the Numbers

It's an inescapable fact that education is currently driven by data: numbers, scores, graphs, and charts are our main (only?) means of determining whether the ways and means by which our children are educated have value. Progress is key, and it is measured by an endless trail of formal assessments--buttons clicked, letters circled, and bubbles filled in. I see this again and again in the schools where I am working, from the time students enter kindergarten to the time they graduate high school. I think many people are interested in the alternative methods of education that I blog about (Waldorf, Reggio Emilia, etc), but are hesitant to embrace them because of their lack of emphasis on data. "Without the information gathered through assessment programs, how will we know that students are hitting their benchmarks?" they wonder. It's a very different frame of mind than the one I possess, but it is undeniably here to stay for the time being. And so I wonder: how do we convince those that are so very focused on assessment data that alternative models of education are effective?

Well, we can attempt to play the game and compare the numbers.

In October 2012, Larrison, Daily, and VanVooren published a study in Current Issues in Education titled "Twenty Years and Counting: A Look at Waldorf in the Public Sector Using Online Sources." This study aims to examine the effectiveness of Waldorf Education in public charter schools by comparing standardized test score data and parent comments with those from non-Waldorf public schools that teach using traditional educational methods. Waldorf charter schools (sometimes called "Waldorf-Methods" or "Waldorf-Inspired" charters) are one of the fastest-growing options for alternative education in the country. Waldorf-methods charter schools combine a Waldorf curriculum and environment with the standards of a public school. Their adherence to public school standards necessitates some adjustments, such as beginning formal reading instruction in kindergarten instead of in first grade, but the values and ethos of a Waldorf school remain. Literacy is imaginative and hands-on, stemming from poems, songs and verses, and stories are retold by students through dramatic play. The curriculum is arts-infused, and kindergartners learn their letters through pictures that gradually morph into the familiar symbols we know. Learning comes at a slow and steady pace, with students allowed to develop and flourish at a more individual rate than the hurried one that is pushed in many public school classrooms. Because Waldorf charters are funded publicly, though, students are required to take yearly standardized tests, just as they would in a traditional public school. Larrison et al use this scoring data to establish the efficacy of the Waldorf method as compared to traditional educational methods in their study.

The table above compares standardized testing scores between public Waldorf charters and district averages in the year 2008. In both reading and math, notice the trend that Waldorf students begin with lower test scores in the primary grades, but by eighth grade their scores have significantly surpassed students in schools with traditional methods.

The second set of graphs compares students in public Waldorf charters in California with students in non-Waldorf schools in the same or neighboring districts that share similar demographics. Again, the trend shows Waldorf students with lower test scores in earlier grades, but a jump to surpass their non-Waldorf peers by the later grades.

What does this study suggest? Larrison et al write, "The question this data presents is whether there
is any value at all of using test scores in determining the quality of education particularly in the early grades...Given that early test scores appear not to hold any predictive value for a student’s ultimate academic success, at least for Waldorf, and there is no reason to suspect these children are biologically unique, it is important that we reconsider the utility of early grade testing at all." They conclude that "[the] lack of correspondence of test scores to qualitative measures of schools performance should be a considerable concern for policy makers who support testing in the early grades. If we are to gauge schools based on test scores then these tests should at least be reliable measures of student outcomes in later grades. If not, then we must question the expense, time and stress of testing at all. Until reliable measures of school quality are available, the impact of testing should be minimized, especially in the lower grades."

In addition to bringing into question the effectiveness and rationale for standardized testing in the early grades, this study shows that a slower, more developmentally-appropriate approach to reading instruction in early childhood and the primary grades does not mean poor proficiency in the later grades. In fact, it shows the opposite: that the Waldorf approach to early literacy builds a foundation for future proficiency.

With this information in hand, perhaps we can move forward with providing young children with holistic, child-centered education in public schools.

The Waldorf Experience: A Remarkable Education

Here we have another video about Waldorf education--this time from the Waldorf School of Bend, Oregon. I feel that this is a fairly accurate look at life in a private Waldorf school.

The Third Teacher

     Last week I wrote an overview of the Reggio Emilia approach and how it relates to literacy in early childhood and the primary grades. I touched briefly on Reggio's idea of the learning environment, but I think it's so interesting and inspiring that I'm going to devote this week's entry solely to the Reggio classroom.

     The Reggio Emilia approach refers to environment as the "third teacher," after parents and teachers. This means that the learning environment should be constructed in such a way that it is not just a container in which learning occurs, but is a space that inspires and facilitates learning in all students. Teresa Strong-Wilson and Julia Ellis collaborated on Children and Place: Reggio Emilia's Environment as Third Teacher (Theory Into Practice, 2007), a wonderfully written article that explores the concept and effectiveness of the Reggio learning environment.

     Strong-Wilson and Ellis identify eight principles that guide the construction of a Reggio Emilia classroom: aesthetics, transparency, active learning, flexibility, collaboration, reciprocity, bringing the outdoors in, and relationships. The Reggio Emilia approach looks at the learning environment from the child's perspective. Strong-Wilson and Ellis contrast the environments of a typical kindergarten classroom (visually busy, and full of commercially-produced, stereotyped images that may "silence the actual lived experiences of those individuals learning together") with an environment that inspires inquiry by utilizing natural light:

"Because it was located where the undergrowth was thickest, the classroom was often enveloped in a greenish light. Topics rich in local anecdote and story, like the sasquatch, could come alive. The filtered greenish light also reminded her of her "deep down" image of the child and those "secret spaces of childhood" where she used to play hide-and-seek with other children in the neighborhood."

      Reggio Emilia encourages teachers to look closely at their classrooms to envision ways that it could "speak" to the children and invite investigation and inquiry. Examples provided by Strong-Wilson and Ellis include placing small mirrors around the classroom, positioning easels in naturally lit areas, and introducing provocations--carefully selected items in the environment that may spark discussion and imagination, such as a pencil and paper in the block corner or a pizza box in the kitchen center. Other strategies for enlivening the learning environment include introducing realistic objects for play (real pasta in the play kitchen) and storing materials in transparent containers so that children are inspired to sort, organize, and recognize patterns of color and texture. Such changes, assert the authors, "animate the environment" for children, foster care for their surroundings, and encourage them to think inventively about materials.

     Following the eight principles identified in the article, Reggio Emilia classrooms have many common elements, including flexible, open arrangements that promote social interaction, neutral spaces with limited visual distractions, use of natural and authentic materials (baskets made of wicker instead of plastic), natural light, plants, and other "outdoor" elements, easy access to materials, and documentary displays of student work. Have a look at some truly inspiring Reggio Emilia classrooms:

     I can hear you saying, "Wow! Those are really amazing spaces. If only we could all work in a dedicated Reggio environment with custom-built furniture!" But don't dismay. For those of us who work in traditional classrooms but would like to integrate Reggio methods, there are plenty of resources out there to make a space more Reggio-friendly. One blog I especially like is The Third Teacher, an educator from Canada who works to integrate Reggio Emilia methods in her classrooms. In one of her posts, she gets some feedback from an experienced Reggio educator who makes the following suggestions:

• move the group carpet out of the corner to the center of the room. This created a welcome focus and allowed for centers to branch of from the carpet and make use of the walls.

• hang all the poems written on chart paper in one low and accessible place (the side of the filing cabinet). The poems were previously spread out in all areas of the classroom and added to the visual distraction. The children actually used them more by reading them and lifting them like a hanging book for reference.

• remove the alphabetized word wall off the display boards and replace with a usable clear pocket chart. The children then found the word they needed and could take the word (on card stock) to any centre in the room, then return it.

• cover busy patterns or unappealing surfaces with felt – to soften the dividers used for a reading area.

• add a sheer curtain over a reading area to define the space and filter the light from the window. This change enhanced the reading center and made it more inviting to the children.

• remove a shelf that blocked a view of the carpet area when entering the classroom to the side of the room as a divider between two learning centers.

• remove the yellow and red bins.

You can see the difference before and after makes in this space!

Waldorf Reading

Here is a brief video that talks about some of the literacy strategies common in the Waldorf curriculum. I recognize quite a few of them as strategies we have discussed in various courses this year. Enjoy!

A note of interest: This video references the Waldorf curriculum's focus on Saints and Legends in second grade. Waldorf schools are not affiliated with any particular religion, but they do place emphasis on reverence of the "spirit" in the world around us--however that may appear to individual children. That being said, because the Waldorf movement came out of early 20th century Germany, many cultural traditions from that time and place are still observed in Waldorf schools, such as Saint Nicholas Day and Martinmas, and these traditions are overwhelmingly Christian in origin. Most Waldorf schools work diligently to ensure that traditions from other cultures are observed as well.

The Hundred Languages of Children

 As you know, I am a self-professed Waldorf fanatic. I love most everything about Waldorf Education: the aesthetic, the warmth, the slow pace, the integration of art, music, and movement, the focus on rhythm, the respect for nature...I'll stop myself there, but I could wax poetic about Waldorf for many hours. There is one place that I have found Waldorf to be lacking, though: curriculum. Waldorf follows a very structured, prescribed curriculum through the grades. The content is based on Rudolf Steiner's philosophy of child development, and while I do think that some children live a path parallel to the Waldorf curriculum, many do not. Not all children grow or develop at the same pace, and not all children in seventh grade will be interested in the voyages of explorers (even if those children are embarking on the great voyage of adolescence).

Better and more inspiring in my eyes is the flexible, inquiry-based approach to curriculum found in Reggio Emilia schools. I find myself drawn back again and again to the amazing projects completed by Reggio students, and I decided to read more on the topic for this week's blog post. Jean Anne Clyde, a professor of education at University of Louisville, partnered with a group of elementary and early childhood educators to write the article, Teachers and Children Inquire into Reggio Emilia (published in Language Arts and accessible here). Clyde et al identify five distinctive characteristics of Reggio Emilia education:

          1. Children as Protagonists of Their Own Learning
              Howard Gardner describes Reggio's vision of children as "active, engaged, exploring young
              spirits capable of remaining with questions and themes for many weeks, able to work
              alongside peers and adults, welcoming the opportunity to express themselves in many
              languages, to create new ones, and to apprehend and enter into those modes of expression
              that are fashioned by their age mates."

          2. The Hundred Languages of Children
              This phrase, seemingly synonymous with Reggio, comes from a poem written by its
              founder, Loris Malaguzzi. Malaguzzi describes children as possessing a hundred different
              means to express their ideas and questions. In our literary context, I think we may rephrase
              this as children having "a hundred literacies." Reggio students are encouraged to use a
              multitude of media to describe their thinking, including (but definitely not limited to)
              writing, drawing, photography, sculpting, and acting. Aligning with Gardner's theory of
              multiple intelligences, different students will prefer different means of communicating. Part
              of the Reggio teacher's duty is ensuring that students have easy access to the materials they
              need, and the classroom becomes an atelier (studio).

          3. Inquiry-Based, Long-Term Projects as Vehicles for Learning
              As briefly explained above, Reggio Emilia does not operate on a curriculum, but allows
              students to develop large, long-term projects based on their inquiry. Usually an inquiry topic
              is followed by a whole class, and comes from student questions, often after observing a
              spontaneous event, like a milkweed pod bursting into seed. The Reggio teacher helps guide
              student inquiry through open-ended questions, but students take the reigns for how the
              project progresses. Clyde et al write that "investigations result in real-life problem solving
              among peers, and numerous opportunities for creative thinking and exploration."

          4. Documentation as Communication: "Making Learning Visible"
              One of the most time- and work-intensive responsibilities for a Reggio teacher is
              documenting the process of student learning. As the students go about investigating and
              exploring, the teacher collects physical artifacts of their learning (drawings, writing, etc),
              and documents non-physical work through photographs, videos, and audio transcripts. All
              of this information is then compiled into documentation panels, poster displays that work as
              a timeline of student learning and documentation of the project's evolution. Documentation
              panels can be viewed by administration, other teachers and students, parents, and--most
              importantly--the students themselves, who often form new questions and ideas when
              reviewing their previous work.

          5. Teachers as Researchers and Collaborators
              Reggio teachers are both guides and co-learners. They keep up with student questions and
              ideas, and work to anticipate possible paths that projects could take. They work as
              mediators, helping children to ask meaningful questions and develop goals for their
              learning. They plan experiences that may trigger student inquiry, and they collaborate with
              other teachers to build deeper understanding of students as learners and teachers.

(please note: If I were to make this list, I would also include a sixth characteristic: The Classroom as the Third Teacher. Reggio Emilia places great emphasis on the need for aesthetically pleasing, flexible spaces that allow students to freely explore their inquiry projects and enhance their ability to learn.)

     Much like the situated literacy project The Donut House, Reggio Emilia projects treat literacy as a tool for investigation--a means to getting to the end, which is understanding and communication. Clyde et al describe an investigation by a first grade class into the mystery of an empty pond on the school grounds: "[The students] learned to read informational texts, use the index and table of contents, present information using various modes, and assert hypotheses. Their use of diagrams, labels, and drama to support their hypotheses was an efficient and effective way to apply principles of summarizing, analyzing, and accommodating information." For the students in a Reggio Emilia classroom, writing, math, and art are not subjects to be studied, but just a few of the hundred languages that students utilize when exploring their world.

The more I learn about the Reggio Emilia approach to education, the more inspired I become. I still have many questions to answer: What is the place of more traditional literacy instruction in Reggio? What does Reggio look like for older children? Like the students in Reggio schools, I will continue to strive to understand, and I'm sure I'll form many more questions on the way. But I do know that I am very excited by the notion of these Hundred Languages. I'm ready to listen.

World of Words

     I recently listened to a Voice of Literacy podcast featuring Dr. Susan Neuman of the University of  Michigan. In the podcast, Dr. Neuman presents a vocabulary curriculum trial that she has helped develop. Called World of Words (or, WOW), the program is an intervention that aims to extend preschoolers' vocabularies in future content areas such as science and social studies. Dr. Neuman gives an example of the word pear: if preschoolers are taught the contextual relationship between pear, fruit, and healthy, then when they encounter apple or mango, they will be able to draw upon their schema for fruit and better understand the new vocabulary. Dr. Neuman describes this as teaching vocabulary through categories (to me this seems synonymous with themed units), and she emphasizes the importance of this planned vocabulary instruction to achieve better student outcomes. Dr. Neuman also hints at the idea that this will level the playing field between students who are upper- or middle-cass and those who come from lower-class families, where children may not get as much vocabulary enrichment at home.

     I did some further research into the World of Words program, which can be found through their website via the University of Michigan. WOW's program description is as follows:

" The World of Words (WOW) curriculum integrates multiple sources of information and technology to stimulate children's literacy development in content areas aligned with national pre-kindergarten standards. In collaboration with the creators of Sesame Street®, WOW uses child-friendly media to support children's learning as they encounter new words and concepts in science, mathematics, social studies, and health. Throughout the WOW curriculum, teachers guide children through developmentally appropriate exercises to increase literacy skills while developing their knowledge and vocabulary in academic content areas."

      I will confess here that until reading this I was unaware that there are national content standards for preschoolers. I think that you readers are already well aware of my thoughts on academic instruction in early childhood, so let's look more at the WOW curriculum:

      1. Lesson begins with a "Tuning In" clip that demonstrates a phonological awareness skill or
          letter sound. Other video clips are played that show the vocabulary content for the lesson. The
          teacher and students discuss the video and practice new skills and vocabulary.

      2. The teacher engages the students in listening and speaking activities that reinforce content. In
          the photo above, the teacher is leading a "call-and-response" exercise.

      3. The class transitions to circle time activities that use movement to reinforce content, such as
          jumping during a unit on exercise.

      4. The children are read a book that has been "specially developed for each curriculum category
          to illustrate and review key concepts." They also color take-home books about the concepts.
          The WOW website tells us that the children in this photo are looking at picture cards to figure
          out how they should color their take-home books.

      5. The children use picture cards and pocket charts to sort images that represent the vocabulary
          content learned in a specific unit, such as "pets."

     The second phase of World of Words allows teachers to choose activities and extensions that support the WOW curriculum during centers, free time, or other parts of the day. In a unit about pets...

 

     Some teachers got really imaginative and allowed their students authentic experiences, such as taking a field trip to the humane society...

     ...or designing a dramatic play center about veterinary medicine.

 

     Others were not so inventive, though this class "pet" was likely very low maintenance.

     There you have it: World of Words, developed with the help of Dr. Susan Neuman. Overall, I have nothing against the idea of introducing preschoolers to new vocabulary. Knowing the names for things can only help with communication, which will later aid in reading, writing, and a host of other subject areas. It also gives children more confidence and a feeling of ownership of the world around them. My main issue with WOW, though, can be summed up in one word: authenticity. I believe that the deepest learning comes from student initiative--a desire on the student's part to satiate curiosity. It seems to me that WOW is a prescribed curriculum in which student interest matters little. Better in my eyes would be a vocabulary-rich environment spurred on by student inquiry. If a group of students is asking questions and showing interest in animals and pets, then by all means present content-specific vocabulary about that topic. If a bug in the play yard is piquing interest one day, fill them up with the "grown up" words to describe what they are exploring. You don't need picture cards and videos--find them the real thing. Let them hold, smell, and taste a juicy pear. Let them observe a caterpillar that tickles their fingers as it crawls.

Let them be awed and inspired by the world around them. Let them learn the words that describe it. Let the students lead.

Nurturing Literacy

     Ah, phonemic awareness. I came to know this term, before I ever started a teacher education program, as a substitute teacher working in elementary classrooms. To me and my students, phonemic awareness was a time each day, working in yet another leveled group, that I got out a big, spiral-bound book and led the children through boring, scripted exercises. "I am going to say two sounds," I would read. "You say the sounds back to me, then put them together to make a word. Are you ready, Daniel? f - ish. Now you say it back to me." Despite the enthusiasm I attempted to bring to the exercises, the kids would look back at me, nonplussed. "I don't like this game," they would say.

     Honestly, at that time, I couldn't blame them. The activities were boring and repetitive. I hated reading the script. The kids hated parroting back to me, and hated even more when they struggled in front of their peers. I felt like phonemic awareness was another drill-and-kill system designed more with bubbles in mind than a child's brain--no imagination, no play, no humor.

      Imagine my happy surprise upon reading Chapter Four of Rasinski and Padak's From Phonics to Fluency. In this chapter on phonemic awareness, the authors assert that, "for most students, phonemic awareness is nurtured more than it is taught." Examples of activities to nurture phonemic awareness in students include rhymes, chants, songs, poetry, nursery rhymes, jump rope chants, tongue twisters, popular lyrics, and raps. How refreshing and reassuring to know that, for the general student body, scripted phonemic awareness exercises do not make the list.

     There is something this fabulous list reminds me of: Waldorf Education.

     Literacy instruction in Waldorf Education tends to get a bad rap from those who don't take the time to understand it, mainly because formalized instruction in reading and writing do not begin until first grade in a Waldorf School. However, this does not mean that kindergarten is an unproductive time for literacy learning! Like Rasinski and Padak say in Chapter Four, "kindergarten is a place for children to become ready for school and ready to learn to read." The Waldorf approach does just that.

Circle time in a kindergarten class at the Waldorf School of Louisville

     Waldorf kindergarteners have circle time each day, in which they learn seasonal songs, rhymes, verses, and chants. The children are playing with sounds and language, taking in rhyme, cadence, and emotion, stretching their understanding of phonemic awareness. Waldorf kindergarteners are also told stories from fairy tales and folk tales, like the Three Billy Goats Gruff. These stories have simple plots and repeated elements that the children can grasp onto. It is common for a Waldorf kindergarten teacher to retell the same story several days in a row. The children become very familiar with the language, characters, and plot, and incorporate them into their own play through drama--living out the story again and again.

 The Waldorf kindergarten builds a foundation for the literacy learning that will happen when the children reach first grade, where their familiar characters and stories take on new life in writing. But I think that may be a blog post for another day.

(Want to know more about life in a Waldorf early childhood room? Sneak a peek here.)

Ready or Not?

     Let me preface today's blog post by saying that I absolutely acknowledge the importance of reading and writing, for both children and adults. I believe that reading has the ability to inform us, transport us, and empower us. I am an avid reader, and in my ideal universe, everyone else would experience the love I have for literature. As a future teacher, I will do whatever I can to help my students achieve that--and I know that some students will need extra support.

     Catching Readers Before They Fall by Pat Johnson and Katie Keier does an excellent job of providing ideas and insight for early childhood and elementary teachers in the trenches, trying valiantly to ensure that all students are successful readers. It's an incredibly informative book--I highly recommend it.

     There's just one point that I am unclear about: who are the struggling readers and how do we identify them? Where is the fine line drawn between a child labeled a "hardest-to-teach" student, and a child who is not yet ready for formal reading instruction? Catching Readers appears to take the stance that all children are ready for instruction. In their chapter about Vygotskian theory, a distinction is made between Piaget's belief in stages of child development and Vygotsky's idea that what a child can't learn alone, he can learn from an experienced other. Catching Readers uses David Wood's 1998 study of mothers teaching their toddlers complex puzzle construction to illustrate Vygotsky's theory. While the three-year-olds couldn't assemble the block pyramid independently (in fact, the study says that this activity could not be performed by children under seven), they could complete the puzzle with support from attentive mothers.

     Can this example be applied to reading instruction? Should it be? The children in Wood's study would eventually be able to assemble the puzzles when they reach the developmentally appropriate age for the activity (8+). What benefit do they receive from assembling the puzzle at a much earlier age? Likewise, with the push for reading instruction coming earlier and earlier (see: Your Baby Can Read), how do our children benefit from literacy instruction at age three--or younger? Conversely, is it really so detrimental to them if formal reading instruction is introduced in kindergarten or first grade?

     In the case of early childhood, are we catching readers before they fall? Or are we catching readers before they're ready? When are struggling readers simply reflecting expectations that are out of touch with developmental appropriateness?

Literacy Dig

     Today I went on a "Literacy Dig" with some fellow Elementary Ed classmates. We chose to visit our local cooperative grocery store to hunt for different literacies in action and analyze them. Right away we noticed that the written word abounded: in directional and instructional signs ("Entrance" and "Bulk Foods"), food labels and prices, deli menus and recipe ideas. Customers read coupons, specials, and receipts. There is a community bulletin board, newsletter, and membership literature teeming with written information.

     There are many words and phrases unique to the co-op that on one hand provide a sense of being "in" to frequent customers, but on the other hand may intimidate the newcomer. A sampling of the language found on product labels: organic, local, fair trade, conventional, vegan, gluten-free, non-GMO, homeopathic, biodegradable, BPA-free, recycled, eco. Additionally, the co-op itself comes with new vocabulary: cooperative (co-op), member, share, member-owner, rewards, specials. The first thing a customer is asked at the check-out register is, "Do you have an owner number?" Often followed by, "Did you bring a bag?"

     While analyzing our findings, our group made some interesting observations about literacy at the co-op. Beyond the written literacy, customers also interact with literacies established by society and culture. One such literacy is that of product packaging: even if I cannot read the written word, I can still identify yogurt by first reading its location in the store (in a refrigerated case near other dairy products, such as milk, which comes in a carton with a cow on it), then reading the size and shape of its packaging (almost universally sold in short, stout containers). I can even find the flavor of yogurt I am seeking by reading color (in our culture, pink packaging is most likely strawberry, blue is blueberry) and imagery (a picture of an orchid on a package of vanilla yogurt). In addition, being able to read the cultural customs of the grocery store is not necessary, but handy, when food shopping. A customer picks up a basket or cart at the entrance, places food within it as he shops, and when ready to leave, takes the items to be purchased to the cashier. He waits in line at the check-out. If he is purchasing a product from the bulk section, he has identified the product number for the cashier. Shopping using alternative customs (such as placing items in a customer's own bag while shopping instead of a cart) may slow the shopping experience or confuse the shopper or staff.

     When reflecting on the co-op in the context of The Donut House, we felt that this community location could be easily translated into a situated literacy project. The co-op is brimming with opportunities for reading and writing. A few of our ideas included:

• budget
• grocery list
• menu
• recipes                
• signage for goods/prices
• food labels
• receipts
• employee check-lists
• business logo
• advertisements
• coupons
• newsletter
• letters to potential members
• letters to farmers/suppliers
• building permit

     Like The Donut House project, we felt that the co-op provided the possibility for multi-faceted community outreach, from people such as:

• co-op employees
• farmers
• nutritionists
• graphic designers
• bank employees
• construction workers  
• city council members
• financial planners
• member-owners
• news media

     Educating students about non-traditional business models, such as cooperatives, is an interesting prospect. Cooperatives are poised to be the fastest-growing business model by the end of this decade, reflected by the United Nations declaration that 2012 was the International Year of Cooperatives. In an increasingly global society where teamwork and collaboration are prized, why not introduce the concept of cooperative business? I can imagine this being even more effective in schools where classrooms participate in a community garden. Perhaps the second graders would like to become suppliers to the kindergarten co-op, selling their homegrown popping corn to the fifth grade member-owners, who are excited to see returned dividends at the end of a successful project!

The Donut House

 

  "The Donut House: Real World Literacy in an Urban Kindergarten Classroom," by Rebecca Powell and Nancy Davidson (available here with an NCTE membership) explores a new type of literacy: situated literacy. Compared to schooled literacy, the type of literacy instruction we are most familiar with in the elementary classroom, situated literacy presents the children with real-world connections from familiar contexts, such as their own communities. Situated literacy sees reading and writing as skills necessary to experience and contribute to everyday life--not just as skills needed to participate in the classroom or score well on standardized tests. Proponents of situated literacy put those beliefs into practice by seeking outlets for students to read and write that are directly connected to their interests and community.

     Powell and Davidson present an exciting and inspiring example with The Donut House, a situated literacy project from an urban kindergarten classroom in Kentucky. The topic of the project, creating a classroom donut shop, was selected because of the school's proximity to an actual donut shop, guaranteeing that the children had at least a little background knowledge of the subject and a connection between the project and their community. The students were involved in every aspect of creating their business, and many community members pitched in too--from a field trip to the near-by donut shop to experience the donut making process first-hand, to bank employees who taught the children about business loans, to neighborhood "stockholders" who contributed to the project monetarily.

     Throughout the project, the students were engaged in reading, writing, and speaking at every opportunity. They read signs, letters, labels, and their own classroom big book. They wrote thank-you letters, stock certificates, building permit forms, loan applications, and invitations to the Grand Opening. They greeted the public at their Grand Opening, gave interviews to reporters, and practiced phone manners. In the end, the Donut House students learned reading and writing skills through real life experiences that created and strengthened ties to their community. They observed that reading and writing skills have purposes outside the traditional classroom environment. In their touching conclusion, Powell and Davidson write,

"...It would seem that an empowerment model of literacy would be especially critical for these students, whose lives on a daily basis may be marked by hopelessness and acquiescence. These children need to know that their words and their lives can make a difference--that literacy, their literacy, can be used for transformative ends."

     In The Donut House, I see a very real example of the trifold education that I aspire to. Children are learning reading and writing skills (head) by engagement in real life experiences situated in their own communities (hands) through topics that they are both familiar with and excited about (heart). I found Powell and Davidson's article to be inspiring to me as a pre-service teacher. I especially like the opportunities for cross-curricular involvement: math skills in ringing up "customers," social studies in how a business is run, science in the making of dough, art in the design of business logos and signs, music in the possibility of a business jingle...the possibilities are endless. I will most definitely be filing away this example for the future!

Welcome

   Welcome to Trifold Learning. My name is Meg, and I'm a pre-service elementary school teacher. My background is in fine arts, and I am very passionate about Waldorf Education, in which I have previous training as a teacher. In the coming weeks, this blog will be a place for me to learn, explore, and share ideas about literacy in early childhood and the primary grades. I look forward to sharing my journey with you.