Some of my favorite things are notes from my Kindergartners. Often they are notes of love, at other times, they are notes requesting I do something for them.
This one was delivered after winter break. She told me her grandmother taught her to crochet over break.
Me: “Wow! That’s amazing. Was it fun?”
Her: “Yeah! Can I show you?”
Me: “Absolutely!”
Her: “Do you have a crochet needle?”
Me: “I do. But not here. I have some at home.”
Her: “Can you bring it in?”
Me; “Sure! Would you write me a note to remind me?”
Her: “A note? (pause) Yeah, I can write one.”
A few minutes later she returned with this note.
How absolutely amazing is this?! Yes, there are some reversals, but look at all the fantabulousness.
My name is spelled correctly.
Please has the correct vowel team! This means she talked with a friend who knew about vowel teams and they worked together.
Crow shay. That has to be my favorite spelling. It’s not conventional, but it tells me all I need to know.
And, perhaps most importantly, she has — with her own beautiful brain, and amazing hand — used writing for her own purpose. She wants a crochet hook, and she knows this will get her one.
I brought in two crochet hooks the next day. She, and others, have been using then happily ever since.
The other day two of my Kindergarten artists were moving excitedly to a new spot in our learning space — paint brushes in hand. Paint brushes that were dripping with lovely purple watercolor paint.
Me: “Careful with the paint brushes. Maybe you can leave the here while you go there.”
Them: “Ok.”
They didn’t drop them off with me. Instead, a few moments later, as I wondered where they and their paint filled brushes were, I heard squeals of delight as the two of them hurried back to me.
Them: “POCKETS! Miss James, we have POCKETS!”
Me: (laughing out loud) “Indeed you do. What a great way to use them!”
Little things. Are there really any little things? Or is it simply the way we look at them.
Pockets — when I don’t need them or notice them — become small insignificant things. But when noticed, found, needed, and used, they become wonderous things to celebrate.
I’ve been wanting to bring more joy, positivity and hope into my life these days. I think this is an answer — notice and celebrate the little things.
Oh! How fantabulous is this?!?! I’ve also been looking for ways to encourage my Kinders to reflect and write. Perhaps a little-things-noticing ritual with a lovely handmade little-things-noticing journal is the answer! Art, writing, and mindfulness all wrapped up in one. This can be a beautiful ritual that allows us to slow down, take a moment, notice, celebrate, and keep track of the lovely little things. I think I can find a bit of time in the morning and afternoon for us to note one little — wonderful — thing.
Fingers crossed I’ll keep you posted.
Here’s a few of mine for right now:
sunshine
naps
sprouts growing
birds chirping
my flute
greeted by name by a kind soul
conversations with old friends
delicious green tea
my inhale-exhale mug
a blog post
I wonder how the Kinders will experience this ritual of reflection and writing. I will have to think how I might structure it — the journal, the time, the selling — to help them experience it’s power.
My experience? I found that seeing one thing brought another, and another to mind. Occasionally I felt a bit of reticence — thinking other might find my ritual silly, I think. But, as I brushed that away, I found more things to note.
Let us all learn from my Kindergartners. Let’s notice, celebrate and share the little moments — even when we think others might think us silly.
A couple months ago, I was invited to attend a writing retreat. I love the woman running the retreat. Ruth is kind, supportive, and funny. She has a big beautiful brain and an awesome heart, and she’s a great writer. So, I said yes.
I’ve been feeling tired, ill, and a bit off my game these last few weeks. Even though I was looking forward to it, I almost backed out of the retreat. I was in an exhausted funk.
Today, mid-funk, the mailman dropped off a package for me. I opened it to find this.
At first, I wondered what crazy person had sent me a book about murdering your darlings. Then I noticed the subtitle and he enclosed gift card. The card said “I’m looking forward to the retreat. Shine on!” The book was a gift from Ruth! Her gift and words were a beautiful balm for my heart and soul.
I’ve only read the cover, the dedication, the table of contents, and the introduction. But, I’m already hooked. I appreciate Roy’s sense of humor, honesty, and ideas. I can’t wait to read more. In Roy’s spirit of sharing, and to encourage you to read his work, here are a few fantabulous snippets:
DEDICATION: Roy dedicates the book to journalists, and reading and writing teachers. “You deserve medals as champions of literacy and democracy. Thank you for your service.” I feel seen and valued!
TABLE OF CONTENTS: There is just too much to comment on right now. Get your hands on a copy of Roy’s book and check it out for yourself.
INTRODUCTION: Roy’s comment about writing guides “… in rare but crucial cases spin my head around like an owl’s at an exorcism!” made me laugh out loud and nod in agreement about equally head-spinning ideas I’ve experienced. Later on, I cracked up reading his response to a question regarding how he managed to be such a prolific writer. He responded, “I write at faculty meetings.” Oh my gosh! Again, I cracked up.
Then I came upon this gem.
When an author writes a good writing guide that author is inviting you — in Frank Smith’s good phrase — to join a club. You may aspire to become a writer, but after reading their work on writing, you can better identify as one, feeling part of a community, a tribe of scribes. (Roy Peter Clark, p. 6)
Too bad I didn’t have a video recording of my response. I closed the book as I drew in my breath and fell back in my chair. I clasped the book to my heart, and gently stroked the cover.
That is what I want — as a human to be part of a club, a community, and as a writer to be part of a tribe of scribes! Thank you, Roy. Thank you, Ruth. Thank you to all the marvelous writers who have already accepted me into the tribe of scribes. I’m grateful and so glad to be here.
Lately, I’ve been painting in a 6.5 inch square watercolor sketchbook. I’m able to do a good bit of playing and still finish in a comfortable amount of time. When I feel like doing more, I use both sides of the page to create a 6.5 x 13 inch spread. I like having the option of the two sizes, as well as my previous art for provoking ideas and bringing me joy.
I played with circles the last few days. I did the one with the colored shapes first. It was a multi-day process:
Tape the edges and paint the circles.
Look, enjoy, and wonder, “What might I add?”
Draw the flowers.
Add the splatters of paint.
I unintentionally got paint on the other page of the spread. It’s what happens when you forget to cover it before splattering paint. It was, at first, a bit annoying. When I let go of the annoyance I saw the opportunity to play.
How else might I make circles?
How might I use my mistake in a new piece?
How would it look to add a border and paint the inside with payne’s gray?
I’m pleased with how the two images look. There’s something quite satisfying and entertaining to have them next to each other, supported by the round-ish rocks gathered on a previous hiking trip.
My playing, painting, and thinking — was fantabulous and fruitful. I’m struck by how important my playful exploration was to me as a creative, a thinker, a watercolorist, a designer, an educator, and a learner!
How I hold my brush makes a big difference in the quality of my painting.
Even though I’ve painted for quite some time, I continue to experiment, notice, learn, and perfect how I hold the brush.
The very same paint yields wildly different results depending on the combination of water and paint.
As I play I develop and deepen my relationship with the paint, the paper, the brush, myself, my brain, and what’s possible.
As I played and reflected, I thought of my young learners. I want to create space, time, opportunities, routines and rituals that afford them the same opportunities I have as I sit at my kitchen table, or out on my patio, with plenty of paint, paper, markers, pencils and time at my disposal.
Here are some things I’m wondering about:
How else might we store and use our sketchbooks, markers, paint.
How might we integrate art (painting, clay, drawing) writing and reading.
How might we engage in intentional reflection — self reflection and reflection together — about our noticing, thinking, and playing.
How might I make time to regularly join my Kindergartners in these things.
This was the last thing I removed from my classroom walls this year.
I kept it up for two reasons. I kept it up for the connection, and the good feelings connected with loving and being loved. I also left it on the wall to remind myself I’m doing it right.
At our final faculty meeting my director presented data about the things that impact student achievement. She shared some of John Hattie’s data.
The following examples may give an impression of the scope of Hattie’s findings:
What’s bad? Retention, summer holidays
What’s neither bad nor good? Team teaching, open vs. traditional classes
What helps a bit? Class size, homework
What helps a bit more? Cooperative learning, direct instruction
What helps a lot? Feedback, Student-teacher relationships
It makes perfect sense. Aren’t we all more able to think, learn, create, do, and be when we feel loved, cared for, seen, heard, known, challenged, valued, and encouraged? I am edified and pleased to see student-teacher relationships studied and mentioned in research as the impactful things they are. Thank you, John Hattie.
Positive student-teacher relationships are powerful. Just yesterday, I got this in the mail.
I love you, too, my young friend. I love you, too.
“Yes, you can build with Legos. Let’s drag the table over so you’re closer to the rest of us.”
“Who wants to play Taco-Cat-Goat-Cheese-Pizza? What? Yes, we can sit on the carpet and play.” (Translated that reads “Yes, you can sit as close to me and one another as possible!”)
“Sure, you can make things with the pipe-cleaners! Yup, I can get your braid started.”
“You want to blow bubbles? Me, too! Let’s make sure everyone else wants to blow bubbles.”
Bubbles always hold a sense of magic and joy for me. I love to dip the wand into the clear soapy solution, and with a gentle exhale create beautifully perfect spheres that bob along, and appear to glow with color in the sun.
Amidst giggles of glee, and groans of popped bubbles, I noticed there were reflections in the bubbles. “Oh, look at that! I want to take a picture.” The Kindergartners laughed as I encouraged them to try to blow big bubbles so I could get a photograph. They blew, and we chased the bubbles together, hoping to photograph one — in focus — at just the right moment.
“Did you get it?” “I think so. Let’s look.”
They crowded around me. Awe and joy washed over us as we saw this image on my phone.
It made me think.
Magic and miracles are always present. Always present, but sometimes unnoticed. I want to notice them.
Magic and miracles are always present. Always present, but sometimes, unfollowed. I need to be willing to follow where they lead.
Magic and miracles are always present. Always present, waiting to be shared with others.
This reflection leads me back to where I started — with my Kindergartners on our last day of school. Much like the bubbles, they are extraordinary, beautiful, waiting to be noticed, worth following, awe-inspiring, and joy-inducing.
I have two tall white cabinets in my learning space. I use the white fronts for many things. Sometimes, things get stale. Yes, stale, just like dry, old bread. They lose their appeal. To be brutal, they are ready to be thrown away. Now, if they are student work, I don’t throw them away. But for emphasis sake, I use that phrase.
I recently removed some of that stale work from those cabinets. Naked — as my learners would say — their stark white color stood out, urging me to repurpose them for something beautiful and created by the children. For a few days, I let their urging ferment in my brain.
This week I decided to end the year as we began it: with real-life writing. On one cabinet, I wrote: We are … On the other I wrote: We can … I cut 6-inch square pieces of construction paper and left them out for our Investigate and Explore Time with the provocation to cover our naked cabinets with positive things that are true for us. The Kindergarten writers were into it, and quickly filled the covered the bare cabinets with beautiful affirmations of themselves.
The process was great. I enjoyed watching from afar — drawing near only to help when it was requested and necessary. Otherwise, I allowed the Kindergarteners to complete it on their own. Each day I noticed a new entry which filled my heart with joy. Then I saw this one.
Wow! Even though they have things to learn and ways to grow, and times when they are sad or mad and aren’t their best selves, they can still say “We are absolutely perfect.” I love that. I want them to know they are absolutely perfect. This will give the courage to learn, be, and change the world.
One student had not yet added her affirmations to her abstract art handprint piece. I asked her to finish it, and without hesitation, she sat down in front of the We are cabinet and began writing. Outstanding!
The cabinets adorned with the kindergartners’ thoughts, writing, and doodles add beauty to our room, serve as writing idea resources, and provide positive reminders. Well done, kindergartners!
We had our Field Day at my school yesterday. It was fantabulous and tiring! Thankfully it’s a half day for students. This allows faculty to do some of the many things on our plates.
After my students left, I took a moment to contemplate my next steps. Despite having a lot to do, I decided that it would be most beneficial for me to take a walk uptown, grab a bite to eat, and give myself the opportunity to find peace and refreshment.
As I walked, my joints and muscles ached a bit, and for a moment, I wondered if I chose well. I took a breath, reminded myself of the advantages of pausing and taking care of myself, and walked on.
Arriving at the restaurant I talked and laughed with the server, ordered, and went outside to find a pleasant place to sit. The table in front of the waterfall installation was free. I opened the umbrella by my table, sat down, kicked off my shoes, and began to breathe and relax. I chuckled at the small birds, enjoyed the cool breeze, took many deep breaths, and allowed my mind to find joy.
Before leaving school, I packed my haiku notebook and a pencil I enjoy using in my bag, knowing I don’t always enjoy eating alone at a restaurant. After sitting for some time, I felt the pull to write. I appreciate the structure of haiku. Its format encourages me to find new ways of saying things and allows me to write in short bursts.
Little Bird The bird drinks water escaping the waterfall Then tweets hungrily
Gladness In city center I pause by the waterfall Manmade and lovely.
Yesterday morning I was listening to Simon Sinek talk with French biochemist Jessie Inchauspé. They didn’t just talk about reducing our glucose spikes. They talked about passion, profound work, and caring a lot. I dug what she said about dietary hacks to help reduce glucose spikes, was amazed by the various benefits, and have already started using her hacks. But, I think the most incredible outcome was the stream of consciousness I had after listening, and then the clarity I found as my brain continued to mull over the ideas as I drove home this evening. Do you ever notice your brain working on things without your conscious help? It’s wild.
I was reminded of the way I end the yoga practice with my Kindergartners. We take each other’s hands (one at a time) make good eye contact and then express gratitude and acknowledgement of each other’s awesomeness. I love those moments with my Kindergartners. I’m not doing yoga as often as I’d like, hence we’re not doing as much thanking and affirming.
After listening to Simon and Jessie I knew I wanted to add it back in, but how? I decided to do it as my dismissal ritual. I tried it yesterday but stumbled on the words as I wasn’t sure what important thing I wanted to affirm. It was good, it was modeling, it was affirmation, but it wasn’t a great sound bite yet.
Then on my way home, my mind was wandering among many things and at some point I thought — Brave and kind! Bravery and kindness are my jam — or at least what I strive and hope for — and they encompass so many other marvelous things about which I am passionate.
Be brave and be kind! If we are brave step boldly in the world We are creative. We apologize when we are wrong. We ask for help when we need it and forge ahead even if we aren’t positive we can do it. We problem find and problem solve. We are curious and imaginative. We lead, and we follow. If we are kind we live and lead as our best selves. We see others, touch hearts, and change the world.
Today I posted this message under our white board, next to our meeting carpet. I say it all the time, now it’s written and there for all to see. At dismissal, I will take each of my Kindergartners hands in mine, look them in the eyes, and very intentionally speak the words I want them to hear after a long day of thinking, doing, learning, and being. “Thank you for being brave and kind. You are fantabulous!”
Typically I talk with my Kindergartners about being real life super heroes. This year, that didn’t seem to reach them, so, early on, I changed my teaching point to kindness. Our whiteboard declared “Kindness is Powerful!” We posted photographs of ways we are kind at home — helping with the dishes, playing cards with our sister, making dinner with our grandma. Then the Kinders drew images of ways they are kind in our school and classroom. Our kindness exploration, noticing, naming, and celebrated continued through the year in various moments of our day.
Since our focused moved from super heroes to kindness I needed to rethink our end of year art project. While it added a bit to my feelings of stress, it also gave me the opportunity to rethink, reimagine, and try new things. I wanted the project to include sewing, and give them something to wear or carry with them.
A friend had gifted me thick white felt at the beginning of the year. it sat on my top shelf waiting for me to figure out how to use it. For most of the year I wondered if there were any way for me to use it. Now, with the new opportunity and challenge, my eyes and mind returned to the felt. Might I use it to create a everyday kindness carrying bag?
I spent a few days thinking of the art materials I have, and the various ways we might use them — and other things — to create and decorate the bags. I wanted to find the simplest –and at the same time most beautiful and impactful — way for the Kindergartners to work with the material. It needed to be accessible to them, bring them joy, and include ideas and thoughts of kindness. After a good bit of time and some experimentation, I decided the Kindergarten artist could create a beautiful piece of art using acrylic paints and paint markers. We could then sew this into a purse/bag.
Yesterday, I taped the pieces of felt to their desks. Their curiosity was piqued and they did their best to wait patiently as I taped the last pieces of felt. As they grabbed their smocks out of the cubbies, I gathered paint brushes, acrylic paint tubes, and paper plates. Kindergartners surrounded me asking for my help with their smocks. Each request was answered the same way — “Find a friend who can help you.” Not only did I not have enough hands, I wanted them to keep learning that they are capable and kind. If they asked for help, they would receive it. If they were asked for help they would give it. Finally we were ready.I
Joining them at our cluster of desks, I shared the project.
Me: Hey, Kindergarten artists!
K Artists: Hey, Miss James, artist!
Me: You all have been so patient! I love how curious you are. You’ve shared some great wondering and given some remarkable ideas of what we might be doing. Thanks! Do you want to know what we’re doing?
K Artists: YES!!
Me: We’re going to make a purse. (Insert gasps from the artists.) But not just any purse. We’re going to make a kindness carrying purse.
Their excitement warmed my heart. I continued with a few instructions and rules. One of the biggest change I shared was that they would be able to get more paint as they needed it. I shared my trust and knowledge that they could be careful and kind. I told them I knew they would only take a small amount paint at a time, and would be patient, kind, and helpful to their fellow artists. I’m happy to report they were all of those things.
I joined them in the process which meant I didn’t get photos of them making their pieces. But, I was able to reinforce the truth that we are all artists — I have practiced for far longer than they have but none-the-less we are all artists. We each worked with joy and purpose and completed our acrylic painted purse bases. They are spectacular. I’m excited to see and share the rest of the process and product with you as it happens and is created.
As I cut the pieces today — preparing them for the next step in the process — I was struck by the realization that the acrylic paint and felt combination felt very fabric-like. I have altered my conversation with my artists to include this fact. I talk, not about their art, but the fabric they have designed and created.
Life lived with relentless creativity 