Library Crawl Lessons #sol17

Art Installation Goodnow Library, Sudbury, MA

Eight Lessons for August First   

August 1, 2017

I spent the day on a crazy library crawl with my friend, Patti.  Patti is that friend that always calls me to do the thing with her that is just a little off the grid.  I consider this a tremendous compliment.  So we set out to visit 12 local libraries and view their prize possessions in one day.  We didn’t have a plan except the list of libraries, our phones, and our company.  The day was full of little surprises, great conversation, and some adventure.  Here are eight lessons learned on August 1.

1. Be willing to linger in the crazy/good/interesting folly.  It took a while.  We gave ourselves the day to enjoy.  We didn’t rush.  We chatted with the people we met.  We lingered over art.  We thought about the past.  We noticed those around us.  We relaxed in our pursuit.
2. Have a plan, but keep it loose.  12 libraries in a day is sort
   

   Bacon Free Library

   of crazy sauce. There was road work. There was questionable GPS advice.  Be prepared, but not too quickly, to let go of something if it’s not working.

3. Take a moment.  Those extra minutes to hear a story, make a connection, examine something more closely lead to the jewels that make the day.
   

   Kindness Rock Project, Morse Institute Library

4. Be camera ready. Patti looked lovely and I did not have my best look on. We took dozens of pictures.   So… be camera ready. Not Pinterest.  Not Vogue. Know what the objective is,  what’s going on in your class, what your goals are, and what might happen next.  You never know who’s going to drop by.  More importantly,  you’ll feel ready for anything.
5. Everyone will not have the same reaction to you, so what.  Each library was different and their welcome/interest in us was in kind.  Our interest in the experience did not change.  We had an agenda and goals and their reaction only could enhance that.
6. Beautiful things can happen in benign neglect.  While stopped in traffic we noticed some lovely “ditch flowers” blooming away.  A little neglect is a good thing.
7. On the way to your objective,  you may discover marvelous surprises.  We discovered a stuffed aardvark, a step and handle to reach books,  an art gallery,  a house in a library, a library that checks out crockpots, stained glass, a seismograph, a bench with solar charging station, tributes to heroes and beloved community objects, and so many places to linger over a book.
8. Accomplishment is a good thing.  We were going to let that last library go and settle for 11/12, but we were so close.  We went for it.  Now we can say, 12/12 … to ourselves.

Patti and me at Wayland Free Public Library

Thank you to my friend Patti,  Morse Institute Library, Bacon Free Library, Wayland Free Library,  Goodnow Library,  Weston Public Library, Sherborn Public Library, Wellesley Free Public Library, Wellesley Free Library Hills Branch,  Wellesley Free Library Fells Branch, Framingham Public Library, McAuliffe Branch Framingham Public Library, and Dover Town Library.

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers and the Slice of Life Challenge community for keeping writing alive and real.  Read more slices here.

 

Technique Thursday: A Change will Good You Good

A Guide to (Teacher) Self (Workshop) Improvement

July 6, 2017

Let’s say you (or I) want to improve upon our writing workshop,  what might we do?

Apply anything you want to change to this model. 

When we think about getting better at anything, there are so many metaphors for improvement.  Insert your best improvement metaphor here.  What made you want to improve?  What did you notice that you didn’t like?  What could you keep but improve?  Make a list right now…

It’s difficult to target what might be getting under our skin about the workshop.  The workshop has 3-4 components:  minilesson,  guided practice which includes strategy groups and conferring,  and independent practice.  I would include share and a quick tip time too.  

In his book,  The Construction Zone,  Terry Thompson writes about focus, flexibility, responsibility (by student), and feedback.  The focus is our road map.  I often talk to newish teachers about ‘trying to teach everything’ until they have a solid vision of their destinations.  I want to amend that in light of clearer, more concise thinking.  If I could envision what I wanted it to look like and sound like,  what would that be?   Maybe you are in a place where you can picture that.  If not,  here are a few ways to get there.  

Reread  The Guide to the Writing Workshop by Lucy Calkins.  

Think about each part of your workshop:  minilesson,  gradual release, conferring, conferring notes, goal setting, independent work,  interactive writing, and share.

Think about how to leverage your reading work with your writing work

What strong minilessons and gradual release/strategy work do you have in your reading workshop that gets to author’s craft/technique/mind work?  For example,  if you can teach structure in informational reading,  it’s not a long journey to informational writing.  

Watch

Watch videos (TCRWP VImeos are great),  other teachers,  your students.  Have someone teach your students, video your own workshop, or watch someone else teach.

Plan

For me, planning is about assessment and observation.  IF you’re planning now for an unknown future class,  what did your last class succeed/struggle with?  One thing I’ve noticed is looking at the grade before and ‘pre/reteaching’ is so helpful.   It’s also helpful to do a quick/flash draft to see what your students are starting from.  Use a checklist or rubric to see what techniques you want to focus on?  

Learn

What is the most difficult thing for you?  For me,  it’s narrative.  Read blogs,  read books, practice,  write… One blog is key, Two Writing Teachers. 

One last word about success,  change,  and getting it right.  Generally,  if it feels wrong,  we should think… is this fun?  My friends,  Clare Landrigan and Tammy Mulligan, reminded me last week to keep a playful stance about the WORK.  Good advice.  

The Art of Sweeping #SOL17

Zen, Meditation, Completion, and Closure

June 27,2017

Yesterday,  Dylan and I spent a couple of hours resanding the paver joints on our walk and patio.  This is a thoughtful, repetitive process that is largely quiet.  Turns out it is also meditative.  The gentle strokes of the corn brooms against the sand and bricks, the synchronous rhythm of the two of us sweeping the sand gently into each gap, all contributed to a peaceful afternoon.  It was quite a contrast to the day before when Bob and I were powerwashing the same patio and our driveway.  There was no peace in that at all.  

This makes me think about the end of year rituals for teachers and myself in particular.  Truthfully,  some years,  I just clear off my desk, cover everything with sheets, and ostensibly leave it all behind.  I never feel quite at peace with that.  I always carry home my summer reading and a few files to linger over, but the weight of books, closets, drawers, and unfinished things weighs on me.  

This year,  I started thinking about the end of year when I was sitting in silence while the students were taking their MCAS assessments.  I thought about the closet, and my desk drawers, the endless stacks of paper, and those three file cabinets.  

As the end approached,  I was busier that usual.  A project came up that sent me to the classes for the last few days.  Initially, it seemed like a tedious task, but again as I went to each class and interacted with the students, the teachers, our intervention staff,  it was rewarding.  It was fulfilling.  It was gratifying.  

But sadly,  because of those tasks,  on the last day of school, the literacy center and my work space still needed lots of work even to get to the usual quick close.  So I resigned to come back to school the next day after most of my colleagues had gone on to begin their summer.  Again,  I drove over to school dreading the process.  The further I got into the work,  the bigger the task seemed, and the larger the piles.  

On day two,  my spirit turned.  I decided to really examine the space,  my work in it, and the things that were taking up real estate there.  How could this space change?  It’s funny.  People would drop by with random comments and those comments would send me off deeper in the process.  They would notice things that I didn’t see anymore and I saw them with their eyes.  

Just like the moss in the cracks of our walk, I thought I liked what I saw until I removed it.  I thought this was just a cleaning task.  It took a while for me to see the meditation in the act.

 There is only one file cabinet now and a much smaller desk.  No plastic drawers, no room divider, no teetering collection of gerry-rigged shelves with a mishmash of books, and no stockpile of dry erase markers.  

It is unclear whether my work space will stay this way or how it will continue to evolve, but it’s true that the act of cleaning and clearing is freeing.  It gives us a chance to let go, to consider, and to open up.  Perhaps that is the best start to the summer one can have.  

 

 Thank you to the Slice of Life Community and Two Writing Teachers for encouraging my writing.  I have been slicing since March 2017.  Read more about it or join the community here.

 

 

 

Sweet Dreams are Made of These #sol17

Contents of my Bedside Table
March 31, 2017
Philosophy or Reading or philosophy of reading.     xxoo

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers and the March Slice of Life Challenge Community for inspiration and encouragement.  Read their amazing blogs here.

This is Day 31 of 31.   Comments I’ll cherish are clipped into a folder.  My blog fodder journal remains in my handbag. My heart is full.  Read some of my inspiration here.

Where’s the Joy?

Assessment in Perspective

Reading to the Core

Midwest Heart in Dixie

Melanie Meehan

Cast of Characters