Blogging and Technology Reflection

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.

*****

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that my classroom would have at least three wireless laptops for my students to use, so no, I wouldn’t have to bring my outdated iMacs with me when I moved.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.

*****

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.

*****

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.

*****

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

That Time of Year…Kindergarten Roundup (Repost)

**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!

* 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.

Posted at In Practice

I’ve posted over at In Practice again- this time about Kindergarten Roundup. I’ve included a list of topics I contemplate as I make observations of the preschool students that visit my classroom each spring as an introduction to what kindergarten is all about. If you’re a new kindergarten teacher who is interested in what kinds of information to be gathering during preschool visits or if you’re a parent who is enrolling your child at your school’s upcoming Roundup and you’d like to know what we teachers are looking for or quickly assessing when we meet your child, check it out!

Year-End Blog Review

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Looking back at the old while looking forward to the new- it’s my year-end blog review! For those of you who would like to try this one, just find the first blog entry from each month of the past year, cut and paste the first sentence or title next to each months’ name, then read and contemplate.

January: “Perhaps only other teachers will understand this.”

February:

March: “Apologies in advance, I’m still recovering from our latest round of Parent Teacher Conferences and all of the germs that have taken an extended tour in my classroom this month.”

April:

May:

June: “There are little eyes upon you and they’re watching you everyday…”

July:

August: “I’ve moved, unpacked, settled, and explored, and after once again having the time and inclination to visit the blogs and websites of teachers I admire, I feel myself getting back into the teaching mode.”

September: “My mother used to tell me ‘you can catch more flies with sugar than with vinegar.’”

October: “With a toddler running loose, time is of course, limited.”

November: “It’s November now, requiring some home decor swift-o change-o!”

December: “We decided to add bugs, ballerinas, and bulbs…”

Thoughts? It was a very busy year with my husband deployed, requiring I do the single-parent-thing as I worked full-time. I have certainly appreciated the time off since August, which is when my blogging really started to pick up. Writing almost every day has become part of my professional development as a teacher, has been my outlet for sharing what I’ve discovered elsewhere with others, and yes, has been therapeutic.

One resolution for 2008? Learn some more self-editing techniques!

By the way, I’ve posted again at In Practice, this time sharing authorship with Alice Mercer. Happy Reading!

A Lifetime of Personal Diversity

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.
parkassauerkraut

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.

Take a look….

I’ve posted over at “In Practice” again, take a look!