Tending the Eclectic Kinder-Garden

My Dear Husband and I were having dinner away from home last night after having run errands for most of the day.  We chose a buffet type restaurant for both its selection and its proximity to the Sprint Service Center, where my cell phone was being beaten into you-SHALL-display-email-when-she-wants-you-to submission repaired. The late hour combined with the buffet environment and the other diners that belonged to the senior citizen crowd seemed to bring out our silly side, and soon we were joking about the repairs my cell phone *might* need, the number of used car lots that my husband has to choose from in his search for a smaller vehicle that gets better gas mileage, and how it was funny for me, being an Eskimo in Oz.

It sounds like a great blog title, no?  Eskimo in Oz. We’ll see if I find some inspiration for that one, since I’m back to rethinking my blogging now that I’ll be returning to the classroom.  Should I just keep all of my content here and at Kindergarten’s 3 R’s, or should I focus one blog solely on teaching, and use the other as a catch-all…  Pondering, pondering.  Thoughts?

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By the way, after two forty-five minute waits at the Sprint Service Center, we realized that Sprint Service really doesn’t…sprint.

From Wiktionary: Sprint:  A short race at top speed; a burst of speed or creativity; To run etc. at top speed for a short period of time.

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I’ve missed W.E.I.O. again this year- and will have to make vacation plans back to Alaska over the summer in the years to come to see and hear the dancers, drummers, blanket pullers, Native crafts and vendors, athletes and friends who gather there annually:

Thankfully, Pamyua’s “tribalfunk” sound occasionally visits Oz!

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Apologies if tomorrow’s Show and Share is posted a little later than usual- I’m hoping to get my key(s) to my classroom in the morning and will be photographing the space and materials to help me plan my activity areas for my students!

Tags: Eskimo

I’ve caught myself in a state of self-reflection again, this time in regard to my presence out here on the web.

I’ve read the newest issue of Artful Blogging. For months now I’ve been enjoying my morning ritual of parking myself and my coffee in front of the computer to scroll through NetNewsWire. I’ve noticed the monthly blogging/commenting challenges that have popped up all over Blogsville this past week, and have wondered if I should join in or just keep my blogging activities to myself and my readers. I’m still confused as to why some of my subscriptions load reliably almost every day, while others get stockpiled in blog limbo and then flood my feed in one fell swoop after a month or so. It reminds me of my cell phone service here in the Bordertown. I miss calls, and messages get held for days, weeks sometimes, before hitting voicemail. Message after message, the callers’ tones seem to get testy, because they* JUST KNOW* I’m ignoring them and not returning their calls.

There goes that blind trust and over-reliance on technology again. Don’t trust the phone company or advances in voicemail technology, trust ME.

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From what I could gather during my job interview over the phone with my new employer (I’ll be back in Oz, this time at District #2), I’ll be working with a staff that is a bit different from the last three with whom I’ve taught. This is completely understandable to me because I’ve witnessed first-hand the diversity that exists in the United States each time Uncle Sam has relocated us, however it might still come as a surprise to those who assume school districts across our nation are actually nearing some state of standardization with one another.

During my interview I was asked about PLC’s and technology in particular, a question I’ve never been asked before. It’s a question I myself have asked prospective employers at each of my interviews here in the Bordertown, a question I received very awkward answers to, responses indicating that I was more familiar with current technology usage in education than the interviewing principals were. I was told by District #2 that my classroom would have at least three wireless laptops for my students to use, so no, I wouldn’t have to bring my outdated iMacs with me when I moved. For the first time, I was able to say “I have a blog” without worrying that the interviewer’s mental alarm bells were going off, imagining a site full of inappropriate photos and text of a wanna-be-web-celeb instead of a teacher/crafter/mother/military wife who was sharing recipes, craft ideas, family updates, and links to kindergarten-related themes. I’m guessing someone at District #2 has already Googled me…probably did it before ever dialing my number for the interview. I would if I were in his or her position.

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I know that time has continued to march on as my family and I relocate from state to state. When I left Alaska, my teaching experience was built over a decade’s worth of observations and paradigm shifts, most notably in regard to technological advances and their impact on school and society. I had to learn how to be responsible for an entire new iMac lab (not so new now!), and had to exercise caution because of what my students might encounter or see “out there,” *NOT* what they themselves might PUT out there. Teachers with their own web pages were testing the water for all of us, and must have felt the pressure of it. My usage of White Out decreased significantly when a computerized report card replaced the traditional hand-written one.

In New Mexico, the kindergarten curriculum included goals for computer technology, but my classroom was given rarely operational PC’s for the job because really, why would five year olds need computers? They’d just “play on them.” Many of my colleagues had never heard of or seen Living

Books before (another no-longer-”new” resource). Teachers emailed, or instant messaged one another, but other than professional communication and entering data for attendance records, computers were to be used for student assessment only via Accelerated Reader. During chats in the staff lounge, no one complained about their own childrens’ MySpace pages, and no one understood why I would want a dry erase, mobile magnetic white board in my room instead of the singular chalkboard I had. My son’s and daughter’s teachers didn’t assign web projects. My own students were taught how to use the overhead projector, c.d. player, computers, and scanner instead of just being parked in front of them during lessons. Report cards still had to be filled out by hand. DIBELS too, though the number crunching of scores took place at Central Office somewhere.

In Oz, District #1 seemed to focus on using technology primarily again for student assessment. Improved reading and math scores were the be-all-end-all goal, with lists of acceptable web resources and sites xeroxed off and distributed ad nauseum during most professional development seminars, while statewide assessment test “practice” took precedence over any other web activities or lessons that students might have normally been assigned. My old iMacs came in handy, as my students were never a priority for computer lab time when the assessment crunch was in full swing unless my colleague and I were prepping them for future first grade AR assessments. I’m guessing the proposal I helped to author for an additional portable/cart computer lab wouldn’t have created increased computer access for my kindergartners…it would have provided more test prep for additional (older) students. District email was handy, as were the attendance and report card programs though the kindergarten report card wasn’t aligned with state standards and didn’t provide enough narrative space for additional and essential info/documentation.

A younger group of teachers have MySpace pages, but several still don’t quite know that their just-out-of-college-weekend-partying photos that they regularly post on their public sites are still viewable by students, parents, and colleagues. Some post photos on their personal pages of not only themselves but their students as well, something as a parent and teacher I find highly inappropriate. Some colleagues have their own personal blogs, where they reflect on their teaching practices and philosophies, their frustrations and their goals. Many of their identities are kept private for good reasons, as professional retribution and/or public misunderstandings by parents and colleagues who might search the web for them would be unbearable and possibly even job-threatening.

District #2 sounds incredibly promising, pro-teacher and therefore pro-student.

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I’ll reflect more on why I blog at some later time, but I have to tell you, it’s because of blogging, reading, commenting, participating in discussions, and contributing to the sea of teaching perspectives out there that I’ve been able to continue my own professional development during my Stay-at-Home-Mom year. My professional learning community stretches around the world, crossing borders, philosophies, cultures and ages, and in many cases it includes my own personal tastes and interests apart from public education. A wiki on cross stitching, a MySpace group devoted to scrapbooking techniques, a subscription to a photographer’s blog overseas, my weekly download of the latest Oprah podcast for A New Earth, and my own contributions to blogs like In Practice aren’t threatening to me or my employer- they’ve been essential to expanding my connections with others, and with myself.

My next goal? Podcasting- reading my students’ favorite stories for them to access at school or at home. My voice, and the memory of face-to-face storytime can increase the personal connection with my students that promotes literacy better than any digital/cartoon character ever could.

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Thanks for reading. Don’t forget to comment here for a chance to win the blue wreath tomorrow~

Tags: blogging

**The following was originally posted by me at In Practice**

It’s that time of year for kindergarten teachers: planning to meet “next year’s” (August’s) kindergartners. After Easter and spring break, school districts nationwide hold their Kindergarten Roundups, encouraging enthusiastic parents and usually eager-yet-nervous children to start making their immunization, school shopping and pep talk plans in the hopes that the first day/week of kindergarten is emotionally survivable for all involved. I have to admit, I’ve never been able to keep the image of lassoing five-year-olds-that-yes-have-made-the-cut-off-date out of my mind during spring registration, and in fact, several of my former administrators have even suggested that my colleagues and I “troll for kids that look old enough” as we drive through the school’s neighborhoods before work each morning. Each administrator has wanted our numbers to be as close to accurate as we can have them before school staff sizes are re-evaluated over the summer due to increases or decreases in enrollment- very understandable.

Teaching in schools with larger student and family populations that fall within lower socio-economic levels means that I have had my share of hosting kindergarten “sneak peeks” involving myself, my students, future students, and their preschool or Head Start teachers, and not the students’ parents. Typically, preschool teachers contact me and my colleagues in advance, asking us to look at calendar dates to find a morning or two when they can bring their students over to see what kindergarten is all about. They ask to sit in on storytime, centers, and participate in snack and possibly recess. I of course, give my Super Stars the heads up that younger visitors will be spending time with us during the week, and each year we inevitably agree that we should do what we can to help them feel comfortable during their stay.

Three or four students per preschool teacher arrive for their sneak peek, usually wide-eyed, and not at all reluctant. I purposely revisit old standby stories such as Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See or Green Eggs and Ham for storytime, and my Super Stars teach their guests the motions to our fingerplays, “Two Little Sausages,” “Once There Lived a Quiet Mouse,” and songs like Shake My Sillies Out. The preschoolers visit the learning centers they are most interested in, and can tour the classroom and its materials on their own, with a friend, or with one of their teachers. Painting, playing with blocks, dressing up in the pretend center, counting/sorting/classifying with math manipulatives, pounding and rolling clay, putting puzzles together, working on the computer, playing musical instruments, or quietly looking at books…are some of the activities that I will watch my future students exploring during their visit. *

Why am I watching instead of putting myself front and center, vying for their attention? For one, I might not be their teacher in August. Two, I feel it’s important that the children make this transition successfully in their own way(s) and in their own time. It’s not important that students *like me* when they first meet me, it’s important that they feel welcome, and that they feel safe. And finally, yes… I’m taking mental notes, sometimes scribbling thoughts and observations down about each of the children as they familiarize themselves with their future environment.

~Does the child wear glasses? Hearing aids? Appear to have physical limitations that differ from his/her peers? What is the child’s size, and how does s/he use physical space? Does the child squint, or say “huh” or ask for directions to be repeated again?

~ I listen to them speak…is there an accent? Is the child bi-lingual? Is only English spoken in the home? Does the child speak English at all? Understand it without speaking it? Are there pronunciation issues separate from language comprehension and expression? Regardless of oral language, does the child prefer to use sign language of some sort, gestures, to communicate rather than speaking?

~ Does the child interact with others? Others of the same gender? Opposite gender? Does the student only demonstrate parallel play? Does the child recognize and choose to acknowledge and cooperate with transitions?

~ Is the child passive or aggressive? How about passively aggressive (that one usually takes time to observe once the new school year has started, unless parents, a previous teacher or daycare provider tells me in advance)? Allergic to anything?

~ Is the student a watcher or a do-er? A little of both? How long does it take him/her to come out of a comfortable shell?

~ Is the student aware of his/her own needs and wants, and is s/he capable and willing to be in control of belongings, potty issues, and sharing resources? Does the student ask for help?

~ Left handed? Right handed? Ambidextrous? Knows how to cut, hold a pencil or crayon, and move objects and materials from hand to hand smoothly?

~ How does the child move? Running? Jumping? Climbing? Walking, skipping? Does s/he have good balance?

~ Does the student appear well nourished, clean, wearing clothes that fit? Does s/he appear well rested? Is the child lethargic, or a bundle of excess energy?

~ Does the child like to complete one task before moving on to another, or does s/he flit and float, moving between activities and projects, dabbling a little bit here, a little bit there?

~ Are hands and kleenexes used when the child sneezes, or are sneezes wide open and shared with the classroom? Does the child still put objects like toys, pencils, crayons, rulers, scissors in his/her mouth?

~ I also listen to our guests, what I call “professional eavesdropping.” Do my students shout out “Hey, we have that book at our house!” Do they question what paint or clay is? I can learn a lot about my future students’ prior schema just by listening in on their stories and interactions while they’re in my room.

Colleagues at each of the schools I’ve worked have asked me if I can tell with just one visit which students have had prior exposure to a school-type setting or structured learning environment, if I can tell which students have been read to nightly at home, which students have experienced hands-on learning, which students have made mudpies with real dirt and water and which have only made them by drawing or painting them with a computer program.

Yep. I can. While I hope that Kindergarten Roundup leaves each preschooler with a good feeling and anticipation about the upcoming kindergarten experience, it gives *me* my own sneak peek, providing me with vital information that I feel better about having long before the DIBELS test booklets arrive in the building in the fall. Recognizing and appreciating the wondrous diversity, strengths, needs, and potential that each new class represents makes essential relationship-building happen more smoothly and naturally for our youngest learners.

Welcome to kindergarten! Bienvenido!

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* Yes, some schools include preliminary formal assessments for incoming kindergarten students during Roundup . I’ve worked at one that did, and two that did not. My own preference is to refrain from putting barely-five-year-olds through additional performance stress on a day that should be about discovery, bravery, inspiration, anticipation, and belonging. Of course, that’s just me.

Tags: kindergarten

It’s February, but there is something I’m *not* loving at the moment… the all-encompassing FEAR that many/most (if not all) of us have felt for quite some time now. Fear of terrorists, fear of our children “being left behind,” fear of immigrants, fear of gender, fear of race… interesting how we’ve allowed ourselves to be steered in this direction.

Living in the Bordertown gives me visual reminders of fear everyday:

Now these homes aren’t in bad shape, nor are any of these located in what’s considered to be a “bad” neighborhood, but their prison “look” is representative of the rest of the community at large. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter if your gates and bars are painted a complementary color to your home, or if you add swirly curly-q’s to them, or try to make them architecturally interesting by making their line follow the architecture of scalloped walls: you’re still locked in behind those bars, and you’re trying to lock everyone else out. Sure, we outsiders see your fence of fear (oh I know, the manufacturers call it a “security fence”), but you know what? When you’re looking out of your window, so do you. Must be a great view.

Fear.

Somehow, we can deny entry into our country to any music star who might have a drug conviction, but we can’t keep terror cells outside of our own borders. And just when you try to return to Mom, baseball, and apple pie, someone somewhere decides that 9/11 footage should be shown AGAIN. How’s your adrenaline?

Blanket statements about immigration ignore those newbies to our country who came here the “right way,” legally obtaining citizenship. Instead, we’re fed information from a different slant. Many statements (usually racist) made about how all of “our” jobs are being lost, our school/health/welfare systems are overburdened by non-citizens, etc. Riled up yet? Oh wait, is that….adrenaline again?

As a teacher, I resent the fact that many people in this country have bought into fearing me, fearing that I might “leave your child behind.” In twelve years of teaching, somehow I’ve morphed from trusted guide and awesome kindergarten teacher to “She-Who-Must-be-Doubted-and-Feared.” No, my intense interest in finger paint, glue sticks, and songs by Raffi is actually not an indicator of substandard or inappropriate teaching practices. Really. Surprised?

I value my ability to put food on my childrens’ plates, clothes on their backs and someday, Uncle Sam willing, a long-term roof over their heads. I’ve spent a lot of time, a lot of money, and a lot of effort obtaining knowledge from a college I didn’t have to attend in order to learn how to teach well. I complement my educational expertise with ongoing training in child/parental psychology, health and nutrition guidance, nurse/EMT training, multi-cultural awareness, sociology and communications, technological advances, and a slew of other areas of specialty, again, so that I can do my job well. I utilize developmentally appropriate practices and I believe children are very different from adults (and should be allowed to be so).

In my classroom you’ll see children BEING CHILDREN, learning through experience and exploration, expressing themselves, sharing, laughing, singing, and yes full-day-kindergarten-advocates, taking naps. Sorry folks, but no matter what politicians or testing company CEO’s try to tell you, duct taping students’ fannies to their chairs multiple times per week to assess their knowledge gained actually results in kiddos spending less time participating in activities and experiences that enhance and facilitate their learning.

Stop. Think. Breathe. You can understand this one, really. If you have to take your kids to soccer, then to the store to get new pants, then over to the dentist’s for an appointment, then over to the bank to deposit a check, how are you putting your family’s photo album together at home? And when? If you keep taking kids away from their teacher, and keep making them spend extra time on math and reading in isolation in order to pass a single test, when are they going to learn how to play an instrument (which by the way, would offer yet another way for a child to have an “a-ha moment” in regard to both math and reading!), have time to explore literary genres, or learn a foreign language and exercise their bodies? After school? Uh, honey, check the newest after-school activity list: here in the Bordertown you won’t find band, babysitting, or computers. You’ll find TAKS TUTORING. When did you decide that it was okay to no longer value your child’s creativity? His or her inner song? Interests? Gifts? Mental, physical, and emotional health? Did you learn best by sitting in a chair, day in and out, in a room filled with silence, or are your most vivid memories of learning filled with sights, sounds, textures, smells, exertion, emotion, and interest?

Someone told us to be scared. And we bought it.

What other messages of fear have you been fed lately? Which ones have you gulped down, hook, line and sinker? And to whom has it been of benefit?

Questions to ponder… I know, they’ll tick some of you off:

What’s the big threat, really, of having a president whose anatomy includes breasts and a vagina? Same goes for a male president whose family tree doesn’t solely include ancestors who were Elmer’s Glue “white.” A president represents his or her entire nation, all colors, sexes, creeds, and beliefs. In order to do so, s/he must have a diverse background, advisers who are paradigm shifters, and the ability to understand that the most honest answers (and best solutions to problems) will come from going straight to each horse’s mouth. Please stop talking to CEO’s and other salespeople about how I should be doing my job. Talk to child advocates, other teachers, parents, and children. Fame does not equal credibility. Donald Trump and Bill Gates may be Googled more than I am, but that doesn’t mean they could do my job better than I do it. Their business models are MODELS FOR BUSINESS, not for teaching and guiding young children in ways that will enable them to lead enriched, expressive, generous and tolerant lives.

Presidents aren’t perfect, they’re human, and will make some mistakes. But isn’t it time to have hope again- hope that our president will stop serving a single agenda, and stop steering us with fear? We’re not just a nation at war. Americans are starving, we are homeless, we are displaced. We have no health care. Our environment is suffering, a lot of people are depressed. And we are allowing ourselves to be herded like sheep with scare tactics.

Eek! A woman! Eek! Someone with brown skin! Eek! Someone who isn’t a teacher has told us to be afraid of education! Eek! A Republican! Eek! A Democrat! Eek, someone whose marital decisions entitle little ol’ me to judge them! Eek, a veteran! Eek, a non-veteran! Eek, someone whose religious practices don’t match my own! Eek, a person who doesn’t photograph well! Eek, change!

Any idea why our nation’s enemies find us so deserving of their attention? Why we are viewed as predictable and easily-targeted drones? Oh, go ahead spin doctors… our nation is the strongest in the world, our American way of life is awe-inspiring, so other countries and cultures fear us and our strength and our divine right to demand compliance from them, er, our desire that they accept our generous gift of democracy, yadda yadda yadda…

Sweethearts, I’m an American woman with a multi-cultural background who teaches students in our public educational system. I’m a mother, and I’m the proud wife of a United States soldier. Members of my father’s family are considered “indigenous” people, meaning they were here on this continent, living on the land that is part of our present nation, long before my mother’s family arrived on the boat. I would be proud if my children chose to serve in the military, and I would proud if they chose to become doctors, mechanics, computer techs, non-fiction writers, woodworkers, or rocket scientists. I appreciate the fact that it is your tax dollars that move and house me and my family with each new military assignment my husband receives, but I also know that it’s my family’s tax dollars moving and supporting us too.

Hope isn’t frivolous. Hope isn’t a fad. And regardless of what you’ve been told, Hope isn’t going to bring our enemies “into our backyards.” We can be a nation of hope, and have a strong, capable, and appropriately equipped military to defend it. We can be a nation of hope, and provide our children with the best education possible (once we stop taking money away from our students to give it to corporations- yes, I said “students,”not “schools”). We can be a nation of hope and require that all immigrants join us legally. We can be a nation of hope and of health and provide for ourselves as much as our political-correctness inspires us to demonstrate care for others.

It’s time hope returned to our nation. I VOTE FOR HOPE.

Candidates, please deliver, regardless of your political party’s affiliation. All of America is your party.

Tags: Bordertown, NCLB, rant

Like most teachers, I have many wonderful memories of each year’s group of students I’ve taught. Those funny moments, hysterical stories, soul-searching questions and eager explorations could fill a book effectively mapping my teaching career. They are more milestones to me than any of my teaching evaluations could ever be.

As a kindergarten teacher, I don’t always feel that I’m teaching lessons or concepts in the traditional sense. What I do feels more interactive and social in much the same way I find myself operating when I’m in “military spouse mode.” Meeting new people, making introductions, following social etiquette, trying to put people at ease, guiding the audience to feel welcome… the same format applies when I’m seated with five and six year olds on the floor, ready to sing or share a story.

Each year, one of my favorite “introductions” is between my Super Stars and Martin Luther King Jr.

My students enjoy some background stories and information, Weekly Reader or Scholastic usually provide take-home fliers, posters and activities, and then we listen to the “I Have a Dream” speech. In its entirety. And every year that my students have listened to the speech, you could have heard a pin drop on carpet. The wigglers, the blurters, the most animated of children, all transfixed, for the entire speech.

There’s something about listening to a message that has purpose and truth behind it- even children can intuitively feel the speaker’s intent. Some of my favorite student comments:

“Teacher, I like that man. He said I could go to school with my friends.”

“He has a big voice, but he’s not scary or mean.”

“Did his dream come true, Teacher?”

Introduction made. Talk amongst yourselves.

Tags: Martin Luther King Jr.

I’ve never been the type of person who gets the “big picture” about everything. In fact, most of my close friends and confidantes will describe me (kindly) as a late bloomer. Narrow vision, not much spiraled schema starting from my own little world reaching out to the grander view of it all. My naïvité, lack of exposure, and lack of awareness that there are many things out there about which I should become more knowledgeable got me into some hot water as a college student, a young newlywed, a new mother. As a friend and a teacher as well. Thankfully I had caring, tolerant if not patient, forgiving family, friends and colleagues around me who were terrific resources as role models, sounding boards, guides, and shoulders to cry on. I even managed to learn lessons from those less-than-ideal situations and people I encountered. Better late than never, I learned that effort, focus, and endurance were required to live life peacefully and enjoyably with fewer surprises coming out of left field. Timing was everything as it turns out, since I ended up falling in love with a military man.

Moving every year or two as a military dependent has helped to expand my view by effectively throwing me into the deep end of our country’s pool, forcing me to sink or swim, though sinking is never really an option. Before we explore, it’s been important to me to quickly set up house, set up home. Home-base is our safety zone with its routines, chore lists, established family time, even predictable decor. Our traveling foundation is what enables us to feel like we’ve got a safe starting-off point as we navigate the new posts, towns and states in which we get to live. We navigate cultural situations and exchanges, educational experiences, and observe and are affected by local political ills and issues. It’s been difficult to invest a lot of time learning all of the history about each new post and locale when we know we’re leaving again in a year. Instead, we find treasures, places we like to go, bits of the local flavor we’d like to pack and take with us, and try to build new friendships.

The issue that seems to affect us most no matter where we travel with our little corner of the universe is education. I’m a teacher and we have school-aged children. My big-picture-schema has indeed, been spiraling. Being the late bloomer, I have observations, not solutions. More questions than answers. This will probably bother educational and social activists, but hey, we are where we are.

In regard to public education:

*There are poor families and students in every state to which we’ve moved, the “haves and have nots.” No matter how wholesome, how diverse, or how religious a community claims to be, there is always some version of “them versus us” affecting behaviors and decision-making.

*Every neighborhood, each street, each church, school, school board, and each town council have their own view and focus of what’s important, what should be taken care of and how, and those diverse views rarely produce anything other than debate. Unproductive debates turn people off, are felt to be a waste of time. And not every group has a voice at the table with which they can advocate for themselves and their children.

*In the emotionally shell-shocked environments of many places in this country, people are DONE. Done going to meetings. Done reading the paper. Done finding out more info, seeking out multiple viewpoints to find their own balance. They accept what is mandated to them and are paddling like mad just to keep afloat. Why question? Push on, and try to make it through.

*Those parents who aren’t done are eager for reassurement. Many are distracted by the bells and whistles of ribbons, seals, medals, banners, and accolades schools vye for each year to show that they are quality places of learning.

*Parents wonder if their childrens’ teachers are partners in education, or the enemy, deserving of immediate criticism, complaints and badmouthing. Many of them suspect the latter, even when just starting out sending children to kindergarten. Here in the bordertown, articles or newsblips about principals who are clueless that teachers aren’t using provided textbooks, school board trustees taking bribes, and teachers crossing the VERY OBVIOUS line between personal and professional interactions with students help to fuel this fear. Issues are found and reported in every state, at every grade.

*Parents (and teachers) fear for their children and students. Teachers and administrators fear for their jobs. School board members fear for their seats (in more ways than one). Those people who do question, who do ask, who do seek out answers by digging if necessary, fear what will happen when (IF) the masses figure out that this:

is really just this:

Nothing like being immersed in exhaustive fear and distraction- hmmm….almost like it was planned. In the ebb and flow of things, I’m wondering when, IF, we’ll ever truly come to consensus about the tide. In February, we’ll find out where home-base will be moved to next. Something tells me that while we’ll experience new flavors and events in cultural diversity, societal “diversity” will reflect many, if not all of the characteristics mentioned above. More questions, more wonderings, more learning to come in the months ahead.

Ancora imparo.

Tags: military life, NCLB

… and when we have students, teens, young adults who care, have conviction, and demonstrate *class*, people like Rush Limbaugh don’t like it.

Let’s face it, what on earth would indigenous peoples know about the environment in which they live, and why would they care when their observations of and connections to said environment indicated problems (yes, sarcasm intended)?

Feel free to check out Tribal Lands Climate Conference

and of course, An Inconvenient Truth.

And don’t worry, it’s really OKAY if you let common sense creep into your very being, no matter what Rush is regurgitating. Good job Charlee!

Alice’s post at In Practice was a good read this morning. Addressing how to handle diversity in schools, neighborhoods, and society IS a tough issue, and not just for Caucasian folks. Many people simply want to know how and IF (and when and where) to acknowledge ethnic/cultural diversity. The acts of asking someone about his or her background, of learning something new, of trying to be considerate, making sure no one feels looked over, left out, or unwelcome can actually be awkward for people thanks to humankind’s history, no matter how enlightened, unbiased, worldly, just plain kind and inquisitive, or politically correct they may be. But more than some people do feel threatened by anything outside of their own comfort zone, allowing assumptions and stereotyping to influence what I feel are their fear-based behaviors. For some personal history:

I’m a half Eskimo, half Caucasian female born in Kentucky, raised for the first ten years of my life in a bordertown in TX. I lived the next twenty five years of my life in an Eskimo village, a small farming town, and a college town in Alaska. Being a woman who has often been incorrectly stereotyped throughout her life, I grew up wondering who and what I was “supposed” to be with each new hometown locale we moved to. In many cases I was too “brown” for predominantly white communities, and too “white” for predominantly brown communities. A half-Caucasian half-Inupiaq Eskimo girl raised in Texas, eating pâté de foie gras, enchiladas, and hamburgers, while interested in learning French, how to make parkas, and playing the clarinet and violin was apparently an interesting addition to many schools and neighborhoods. I am brunette with dark brown eyes and I tan like nobody’s business. Many people assume I am Hispanic. Others admit they assume I am “something,” but they’re not quite sure *what*. As an adult, I’ve moved as a military dependent and have been stationed in New Mexico, Kansas and Texas, driving through the states each time a new move is required. Teaching in culturally diverse schools has been the norm for me even in places like Kansas thanks to the high military population.

As a young child, my mother was regularly asked if I was a “Vietnamese war orphan.” When I was in the third grade (here in the bordertown), I got in trouble with my Spanish teacher and school principal for “not speaking my language,” which according to them was my mother’s fault, as she is white. I told the teacher and principal I was Eskimo and was then accused of lying. My mother brought my Bureau of Indian Affairs card in to the principal and told her that yes, while the accusations of my mother not making sure I spoke SPANISH were accurate, it was in fact because in addition to English, I should have been speaking Inupiaq, a language NOT taught in Texas. The harassment from the Hispanic teacher and Hispanic principal stopped. The irony? I did speak Spanish with my Spanish-speaking-only friends on the playground or outside of school.

As a junior in high school, my family lived in Fairbanks, Alaska. The school I attended was the largest I’d ever seen at that time, most students either already sorted or in the process of sorting themselves into social cliques. As the weather cooled, I chose to wear a parka to school that I had made. Standing inside in the commons area waiting for the first bell to ring, still wearing “outdoor gear,” students visited with their friends. The punks, the jocks, the band kids, the geeks, the gearheads, etc. were all separated and socializing in their staked-out territories as were the students who sorted themselves by cultural heritage or grade (only the seniors seemed to have license to roam free, socializing or harassing students from any group). I stood with a friend from the bus, talking and laughing, wondering what our French teacher had in store for us that day, when I noticed two students from what appeared to be the “African American Group” pointing, smiling, nodding, laughing, and pointing some more at me from across the room. After some quizzical looks on my part, one of the boys came over, laughing, and told me “we’re getting a good laugh, ’cause here you are, wearing that coat, that Eskimo coat, pretending you’re a native, when everyone here knows you’re half Black.” I was floored, not because I perceived what he was saying was an insult, but because somehow I had become a joke based on what people who didn’t know me at all thought about me- what they had decided about me all on their own, without asking.

In Alaska, I attended WEIO (World Eskimo Indian Olympics) each year with my Inupiaq grandparents, mother and sister, and I learned how prejudiced my “minority” grandparents really were. When my grandparents encountered girls from families they knew from the village at the sporting events and in the artisans’ gallery, I was quickly introduced. But if those girls had African American friends or boyfriends with them, the girls themselves were blatantly shunned by my grandparents by not being offered the traditional outstretched hand or even eye contact. After the girls left the area, my grandmother would scoff, shake her head, and gossip while returning to her beadwork. Interestingly enough, several years later, girls my grandparents had originally shunned who had gone on to have children with African American males were warmly welcomed back into the fold because “taqsipak” (mixed skin color/heritage) babies were considered the most beautiful. I have never spoken fluent Inupiaq. My grandmother has often told me she was glad all of her children “listened to” her when she told them in their youth that they needed to “marry white people to get ahead.” My father, and all of my aunts and uncles did just that after graduating from high schools outside of Alaska (Bureau of Indian Affairs “boarding” schools where Inupiaq language and culture were not allowed).

Visiting family in Oklahoma for the baptism of my daughter, I was put into social situations where neighbors, church patrons, and most locals would ask “what ARE you?” After one inquiry led to a tense half-hour-long question/answer session explaining my ethnic backgroud in a greasy spoon diner, the owner of the establishment with whom I was speaking finally offered his hand to shake, pulled me in close and said “well at least it WORKS FOR YOU.” Yes, he was referring to what he assumed was my heritage. Yes, I was offended, because I couldn’t understand why he felt there was an actual NEED to determine whether or not I was deserving of polite interaction (and frankly service in his diner) in the first place. I didn’t care about his skin color, but he certainly felt he needed to make a few decisions based on MINE.

Thankfully throughout my life I have had family members, friends, and teachers who have encouraged me to “keep the best and toss the crap” of my life’s experiences. I prefer duck soup (made on the beach in Barrow during Naluqatak) over muktuk, “real” enchiladas over Mrs. Stouffer’s, and pâté over okra any day! While a fluent English speaker, I enjoy expanding my vocabulary with conversational phrases, expressions and vocabulary from other languages. Perhaps someday I’ll be fluent in either French or Spanish, though I have little hope of speaking Inupiaq as long as I’m away from Alaska. Sign language also comes in handy, pardon the pun. I have an eclectic taste when it comes to my preferences for home decor, fashion, literature, music and hobbies. I can make a parka, mouton mittens, and sew a fur ruff to finish it all off, and enjoy counted cross stitch and crocheting. A wonderful teacher in high school taught me how to make wonton- she was Chinese, while my German friends have vowed to teach me how to make sauerkraut one of these days.

I am aware that I am more likely to have problems with alcohol abuse and diabetes because of BOTH my native and non-native heritages, but my crooked teeth come from my father’s side of the family, and my penchant for sparkely jewelry from my mother’s. I don’t care to go fishing, but certainly love my Aaka’s smoked salmon and her deep-fried halibut bites with salmonberry jam. I’m no hunter, but can make a mean moose pot pie thanks to my mother. I like theater but not opera, and the rhythm of the Barrow Dance Team’s drums is a sound (and feeling) I’ve missed for the last five years. Mariachi music makes Mexican food taste better, if that’s possible.

I will admit that my mother’s family would probably feel more comfortable in my home than my father’s. We live different lifestyles. We have different tastes. We have different philosophies and beliefs. And it’s okay. To me. And there’s the problem. Diversity is okay to people who aren’t threatened by it, to those people who are selective in their preferences without having fear or cruelty dictate their tastes, whose intentions are kind, inquisitive, or at the very least, polite. I haven’t met too many people who fit that description. Not in neighborhoods, not in churches, not in restaurants, and unfortunately, not even in schools.

Tags: cultural diversity, education

Larry Felazzo’s post at “In Practice” does a good job of reassuring me that experiential, cultural and behavioral diversities exist everywhere, and that standardizing the use of technology is probably an impossible task. It’s one that finds me torn between several ideologies when dealing with the responsibility of preparing my kindergarten students for their future school and learning adventures.

My students come to my classroom with vastly different prior schema. Some are used to all sorts of learning tools, Leap Pad, computers, cameras, dvr/dvd machines, mp3 players, calculators, etc., some have only seen PC’s and are surprised to find Macs as a learning center in my room, and still others don’t have a computer in their home, much less a dvd player.

While kindergarten tends to be left out of the heavy debates regarding curriculum on inservice days, I’m still responsible for getting all of my students groomed for the first grade. When one first grade teacher is having students author short stories and use educational resources online while the other teacher merely sees computer use as a reward (and gives out “reward time” very sparingly) most of what I’ve tried to do gets undone before my students ever make it to the second or third grades. With each successive grade, the use of technology in education grows exponentially. Finding teachers themselves all falling within very disparate comfort levels when it comes to the technology that may be available to them and their students, I often find myself trying to anticipate other teachers’ shortcomings when setting up learning centers/experiences for five and six year olds. “If **I** can give them the exposure, maybe my students won’t be impacted too terribly while they tread water in the next grade.” It’s a horrible thought.

My classroom is for exposure, exposure, exposure, and exploration/development, exploration/development, exploration/development. So no matter the prior schema, all students can start where they need to, and go where their interests lead them. They receive gentle prodding when necessary by me, but are usually motivated to explore with their friends. I still use the overhead projector, modeling use of math tiles, coins, base ten blocks, Judy clocks, etc., but also give my students overhead transparency sheets for their artwork, so when bulletin board space doesn’t allow, we can put temporary displays up and the kids feel like they are in an art gallery, their masterpieces filling the walls, larger than life!

My students use calculators, headphones and dvd players, my iMacs, and printers. Microscopes, hand lenses, thermometers, microwaves, and a tabletop laminator are used by students with extra supervision. Cash registers and “dead” phones in dramatic play, hammers and screwdrivers for creative and LOUD constructions, and musical instruments round out centers filled with paints/puzzles/puppets/ and clay in my room. There aren’t many first grade classrooms that carry over learning centers like these.

I understand that the older children get, the more their “exposure” occurs thanks to being able to speak and read. And I’ve met some teachers who believe “Why experience it when you can read about it?” With all of the curriculum that needs to be covered and tested each year, teachers need to find ways to show students concepts in a timely manner. But when students find topics of interest and don’t have the time and resources to continue to explore, learn about and experience them because teachers are reluctant to stretch their own horizons, how can we feel we are truly doing our jobs? I personally don’t feel the need to be “up” on every new trend or fashion that comes out of our human expression, but I do believe that students should know HOW and WHERE to safely explore their interests, utilizing all resources available, and technology is at the heart of them.

I’ve realized that technology isn’t a passing fad or trend, but an essential element to how we live, learn and share. If we want our diverse students to communicate, demonstrate knowledge, explore concepts and curiosities, and navigate the world as safely as possible, then we as teachers must diversify our knowledge base enough to offer our students the tools they may or may not want, choose, or be required to use, be they overhead projectors, dvd players, computers, or whatever technological innovation is waiting around the next corner.

GETTING those tools of course, is another matter.