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View of the city from Standpipe Park near my house in Portland's East End |
So I haven't been the best at keeping up with my blogging lately, but in my defense I moved (again), and immediately started teaching full time at a new school just outside of Portland, Maine. I've spent the past two months doing nothing but planning, packing, unpacking and trying to get acclimated to yet another new home
and a new job. Luckily, this is the last time we will be moving for a long, long time. Bouncing around the country all year has been exciting and fun, but the nomadic lifestyle wore me out and I'm ready to settle into my new city, my new apartment, my new school and all the accompanying new routines. I find it deeply comforting to know that four months from now, I will not be packing up again, saying too many goodbyes, or pumping myself up for another set of introductions and unfamiliar faces. And Portland, I think, is going to be an authentic fit and a pretty amazing place for build Dylan and I to build our life together.
But onto the important stuff, the stuff that guides my writing, my thinking, and my professional life...the kiddos. I got lucky and landed a pretty great job at a pretty great little preschool in a coastal town near Portland, and when the wind blows right, we can smell the saltwater in the air on the back playground as the tide recedes. In a few more months, I'll be settling into my new Transitional Preschool Classroom filled with a wonderful group of fourteen 2.5-3.5 year olds and I could not be more excited to try and fill the shoes of the beloved teacher who is moving on to new things. In the meantime, I am bouncing around the younger, toddler classrooms getting to know the children who will eventually follow me up to the Transitional class. It's been a month so far and like any new job it takes time to learn the ropes, get used to the program and the many new routines, but it has been an especially difficult adjustment for me this time around after having gone through so much transition in my personal life this year already. Getting to know this special group of kiddos and their amazing teachers, however, is doing much to ease my anxiety and bring my feet back down to the ground, keep breathing, and smile more.
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Once again, I find myself making countless "leaf salads" and now sand cakes too |
As you might already know, I have spent most of my career in education working with PK and school-aged children, so this toddler-intensive has been a month of eye-opening and thought-provoking experiences that have challenged me to step up my game and spend even more time in reflection than usual. I think it's important that I take a moment and send a virtual hug to little K back in Hawaii in thanks for introducing me to this age group in advance so that I could walk with some confidence into what would have otherwise been largely uncharted territory. Sure I spent time with the toddlers and infants at
Bella Mente, but never in long enough chunks of time to get to know this period of development on a deeper level. If it wasn't for little K, I'd barely be able to keep my head above water with these two classrooms of ten toddlers each. Instead, I was able to dive right in and play with the best of them and so far, I've had a great time and have called upon my experience teaching K on a daily basis.
As I get to know the kids in my classes, their wants, needs, and interests, I'm reminded just how new the world is to them and how important it is to see our world from
their perspective. As I both observe and join in on their play, I am finding that I need to slow myself way down and take things truly one at a time and go with the flow of their attention span, which often isn't very long. At this age, (about 15-28 months) children are struggling with the transition from baby to big kid and learning how to balance their budding independence with their still very real need for care and support. They are learning to do things for themselves but it's hard work, especially when their language skills are often lagging behind their thought process. It's hard to ask for help from a teacher, or space from a friend, when you don't yet have the words to articulate your needs. As a teacher, this means I spend a LOT more time talking than I usually do, though much of that is simply narrating the children's play and the routines of the day to help them acquire the words that are most relevant to their experiences at school. I also use my words to demonstrate how to communicate
my needs to exemplify the process, and pointing out the effectiveness of articulating them when the kids give it a shot. If it wasn't for the nice long midday naps, I think I'd be completely wiped out by the end of the day.
So after a month of swimming in the deep end, I feel like I am finally beginning to understand what I can do to best support the unique needs and interests of this group and I can't wait to share what I've learned. Here are a few pieces of the toddler puzzle I've put together so far:
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What I would do to get that set of stairs with the tunnel bridge in our room |
- First of all, it has quickly become clear just how important it is to teach by example. Though I always articulate what I am doing and why, many of these little ones are taking in what I do far more than what I say, particularly the more sensory learners. My actions speak louder than my words so that means I better be damn sure I practice what I preach. That means not simply taking things out of their hands without asking first, and then succinctly explaining why I need to do so if they won't give it up. Otherwise I contradict myself when I tell them not to take toys from their friends.
- If all a kid wants to do is climb on everything in sight, I need to find a way to safely and regularly allow him or her to do so or I am signing up for a lot of unnecessary conflict while at the same time doing that child a disservice by preventing him or her from developing a skill that is clearly important. Find a way to turn "problematic behavior" into a learning opportunity and not only do you get to keep the peace (and your sanity) but you show that child that your role as a teacher is to help him grow and have fun, not get in the way of his learning. The Reggio-Inspired teacher is a co-learner after all, and that means we are in the business of constructing knowledge together.
- Sometimes, an extra hug or a few minutes of snuggle time can solve all the problems in the world. In a group of 10 toddlers, most whom never have to compete for a hug at home, it is crucial to give each one of them as much of your undivided love and attention as possible every day. Some kids need more physical connection than others, just like some adults do. After a month of careful observation, I have begun to learn who and when to ask, do you need an extra hug right now? This simple question has saved a lot of tears and helped me teach the importance of articulating emotions and needs, not to mention it does wonders for the rapport I am working to build with these new munchkins. Back to my first point of teacher by example, these kids are now regularly offering hugs to one another, especially to friends who look sad. A little extra affection can work miracles, it seems.
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The yellow leaves are always my favorite |
Although I could spend hours writing down everything I've learned in the one short month since I started working with this group of toddlers, but so I don't overwhelm either one of us, I'll save the rest for future posts. In the meantime, I'll share one more experience that has made a huge impact on both myself and the kids with whom I've been spending my time. It is fall here in New England and having been far away for the previous few autumn seasons, I have been enamored with the foliage this year. All I want to do is look at the leaves, admire the colors, and breathe in the crisp fall air with all the peaceful feelings it brings me. It was hard for me to imagine incorporating nature into a traditional center-based toddler classroom after spending so many months with K where the farm was our primary learning space, but I've found the wealth of trees surrounding our back playground to be the perfect solution.
Knowing that winter is looming in the distance, we've taken every opportunity to play outside in the sand yard and I have used much of that time to stay connected to the natural world myself by sharing this interest with the kiddos. We started watching the leaves "dancing" in the wind, pointing out the different colors, feeling the wind against our faces as is blows the leaves around us. I pick the kids up, one at a time, and we bond over our mutual fascination with the natural beauty around us. Together we spend our mornings and afternoons outside noticing patterns in the clouds, the contrast of the blue sky against the green and yellow leaves, and occasionally watch as a blue jay or chickadee or dragon fly flutters past. This is what a "science" curriculum for toddlers is all about, noticing the world around us, putting words to what we see, touching, seeing, feeling, smelling, and listening to it as much as possible. These moments of observation also serve as the perfect way to give the kids who need it a momentary break from the hustle and bustle of the playground and get a bit of peace of mind. Don't you just love solving two problems at once? And now that nature has their attention, I can start to parse out what aspects and concepts within their world each child is most drawn to, and build upward from there. Seeing the wonder in a child's eyes as he watches the rainbow of leaves dance in the wind on a beautiful fall day is the stuff I live for. It feels good to back, let's see what adventures next week brings...
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