Saturday, February 9, 2019

Ready for Kindergarten

I consider Kindergarten teachers superheroes. They bring their classes to the media center in silence and drop them off for 20 minutes of adorable chaos. The little ones crawl around the floor like cats finding a spot to settle. They poke each other then find it necessary to tattle on the poker.  Everyone of them wants to speak to me at once, telling me about what just happened or about what they wish for. They find it hard to sit still during story time, as every book page needs to be commented on and peered at closely. And just as I believe I have got their attention, I notice one slinking off behind a bookshelf, and another creeping towards the computer lab.   I also have students swear they "forgot" their books at home, when I know they were returned days ago. It is hard to convince a 5 year old that the books they left the library with are now back on the shelves.
Then I bump into the same children walking in a line through a crowded hallway.  They all have their mouths closed and cheeks puffed out as they walk silently.  Instead of greeting me verbally, they waggle a "mini finger wave" in my direction.  Some stop to give me a hug, but don't break ranks or hold up their line. I was definitely impressed!  I started to watch their teachers to see what I could learn from them.  "Bubbles in!, Hand by your sides," were the magic words, somehow helping them to focus on their behavior instead of what others were doing around them.
My responsibilities in the school include a 12th grade advisory which meets for 20 minutes a week with me. The seniors barely greet me, get out their phones and lie on the floor. I leave them be, hoping to avoid a confrontation over rules and how mean all the teachers are. One girl who, due to a troubled upbringing and other factors I can't begin to understand, hasn't matured emotionally much past that of a Kindergartener.  She calls me names and has temper tantrums.  I don't think the "Bubbles in!" concept ever worked on her.  I started to dread my 20 minutes with her each week.
Other staff considered me lucky to only have to put up with her for 20 minutes!  "Just ignore her'" they said. So I found myself watching the clock, both with my seniors and my Kindergarteners, hoping it would pass quickly.
The Senior advisory was given the task of making a tie blanket for a children's home. When I tried to rally them into the planning, they politely ignored me, hoping I'd let the whole thing go. After all, no one expects seniors to do anything. But I went ahead and ordered the fabric, believing that even so, the blanket would never get made.
To my surprise my homeroom immediately took charge when they saw the fabric, not letting me in, even on the cutting.  When our short time was up, the group all left except my foul-mouthed friend. She stayed on through her study hall to finish the blanket by herself.  And in the process of cutting and tying, she transformed into a focused productive being, ready and willing to help out in a civilized manner. And the next time we met I asked for some creative assistance with a elementary project. Once again the seniors came through and worked cheerfully.
I changed my attitude towards those 20 minutes: they were too short to waste, and I better make the most of those precious minutes with each student 5 years through 18 years.
I try to find creative tasks for them to do, which they can focus on, participate in rather than merely observing. If they know the story I'm reading, I let them take over it's telling. I encourage them to focus on their own behavior, and no one else's. "What are you interested in?" "What will you choose to create?" And yet they still need to work with others.  A team of four children will build one Lego castle; friends will read the same book together; and at the computer one student will ask his neighbor, "How did you do that?"
As one student was leaving the media center he remarked to his friend, "I wish I could live at school!"  And just like that I was already looking forward to his next visit to the media center and what would come out of it.
Suffer little ones to come unto me... I'm ready!

Fourth Grade Boys vs Girls

My long study thesis in the final year of my undergraduate degree was THE STUDY OF CHILDREN'S ATTITUDES TOWARDS MATHEMATICS WHILE WORKING IN A GROUP.  My findings showed a distinct difference between boys and girls in the upper elementary school.  Boys, irrespective of their ability level, are more likely to act out and draw attention to themselves in a social situation.  The witty retorts, the exaggerated actions and mindless noise making, are all part of their repertoire.  They feed on the attention and have little regard for the image they are portraying. Good or bad, attention is attention.  In math this allows them to jump in with a answer without fear of being wrong, and also without much thought.   In this way they are always part of the action, and in their mind, part of the solution.  The boys enjoy group work and their self-confidence grows.  
Girls do not mind working with others on two conditions: that they can lead the group undisputedly or are allowed to work independently within the group without having to share any of their work.  I notice girls who are unsure of their abilities become very quiet and shy in a social group situation. Other girls will take over in a "teacher" role, where they offer to help others appear to be doing a task without any hope of success. Either mode serves to hide the fear and uncertainty they feel when asked to solve a problem or perform a task. This fear of perceived failure keeps many students from the chance of learning within a group. 
I notice this with my 4th graders who come to the Media Center.  I find my attention drawn to the lively boys who are often way off target, and need constant redirecting. The girls shrink into the background and I hardly notice that they are quietly doing nothing.  Whenever I introduce a new tech project I am overwhelmed by the number of boys who ask me what to do and how to do it.  They haven't listened to directions, obviously.  When I lift my head to look past the boys, I see that the girls haven't moved and seem to have no intention of starting.  They are just waiting out their time till they are released from class.   I am discouraged by both attitudes.
We are now working on coding using a math site that allows them to program the movements of a turtle around the screen.  They need to learn basic programming to do this and become aware of angle degrees and distances.  I have given instruction on the basics, but students will need to do most on their own.  The boys are anxious to get going, while the girls are not even looking at the screen.  The boys crash and burn, ask for help and are throughly engaged. 
The girls... not so much.  If I take the time to check what they are doing, I find that most have cheated in some way, using an existing program, to make it appear that they know what they are doing.  They expect my praise, and are surprised when I ask them to start again, with their own work.  It then becomes apparent that they haven't a clue.  I have shamed them and they lose the little interest they had in the activity.
Similarly the boys will accomplish something quite by accident, and expect my praise. When I ask them to repeat the 'accident' or explain how they did it to someone else, they fail, and lose interest.
You see my struggle.  I have found some success with identifying one boy who has understanding of the task, encouraging his success, then letting him interact with other boys in the class.  I can't be certain of their outcome, but there will be something happening and some learning occurs.  I take on the girls singly or in pairs. They need step by step directions when no one else is listening.  They still want my approval and the chance to share their success with me only.  They don't want their work on show, neither do they want to discuss it with an outsider.  They quietly thrive on praise from me and independent success.
If there are 10 to 12 girls in a class, I hardly have time to go round and spend individual time with each one in a 20 minute class time.  But I hope to work towards the chance to build each girl's self-confidence. 
In my mind this tuba-wearing student is undoubtedly a boy, or at least one with the attitude of most boys I teach.  A girl would rarely take the chance to look a fool.  But the real question is not what the sex of this student is, but whether what they are doing will result in music education.  I am not about to debate the learning roles of girls and boys, nor advocate for single sex classrooms, I am looking for understanding into how I could use such a moment as a teachable moment for both boys and girls.