Play and Learning Resources

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My seatmate on the train noticed me playing games in a magazine as we hurtled along at speeds up to 140 miles an hour. He commented that it looked much more fun than what he was doing. One thing led to another, and we ended up talking about play and learning. He is an adjunct professor and also teaches people at his workplace, and wants to incorporate the notion of play as a powerful learning tool.

He got me thinking of so many resources:

I’m amazed by the connection between play and learning. I love to play, and I love to learn. In my humble opinion it’s one of the best (if not the best) ways to engage and learn.

Ages ago, playing with paper at the PEM Makerspace

I’m going to take some time to read, listen, and play. I hope you do the same. I’ll be back to do some blogging!

Setting the Culture

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I got permission to design my welcome to Kindergarten postcards this year. I considered many possibilities — and didn’t like a single one. Then I thought about the postcards I’ve sent or collected over the years. I would spend hours looking at the postcards. I always chose the ones that were beautiful, and captured the important and amazing elements of where I was vacationing. My choices told the best story about where I was and what I was doing.

That gave me a great starting point. What is beautiful and important about Kindergarten — my Kindergarten in particular? What story do I want my new learners and their families to hear when they get the postcard?

I settled on this for the design.

And this for the message:

Dear fantabulous (name),

Can you believe we are going to be in Kindergarten together? I’m so excited to be your teacher!

Get ready to laugh and learn. It’s going to be amazing!

Lots of love,
Miss James

My intent is to begin setting our culture from my very first communication. As individuals and as a class, we are all these things. No one is not these things. We are a community filled with laughter, learning, and love. Get ready, it’s coming, and it’s going to be amazing!

A Sweet Treat and Reflection

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Life has been feeling a bit cluttered lately. A plethora of things are vying for my attention, and filling my to-do ta-da list. Still others are disturbing the peace of my physical space.

So, I breathe, try to do one thing at a time, and begin to tackle the things in my physical space. A vivid mental image of me literally tackling the stacks of things — knocking them to the ground in a feat of physical prowess and dominance, is wildly satisfying and amusing.

As I recycle, donate, and trash the things I no longer need or enjoy, I flip through many notebooks. In one, I find this sweet treat. I’m pretty sure I did it as I waited for a doctor, or got some sort of infusion.

It was a much needed reminder — from me to me — and as I looked at it, I thought, “I should take that out and put it somewhere I’d see it more often.” Funny enough, even as I was thinking what a great idea that was, I was also thinking, “Take it out? Are you nuts?”

I cannot exactly explain why I was thinking — or perhaps more accurately feeling — that angst. It didn’t make that much sense to my brain, but none-the-less the feeling was strong. I think it has to do with a fear of wrecking the piece, or making it less, or somehow lessening its value and impact for me.

I thought of several things I might do with it — including pasting it in my daily art affirmation and positivity journal. Still reluctant to rip it out, I instead ripped out a blank sheet as a template. I measured, thought, placed, and looked. I repeated the process many times. Finally I realized there were no rules that stated I had to make art in only one day’s space. It is my journal, my creation. I could place the piece wherever I wanted — even centering it over two days.

I considered adding washi tape on the top and bottom border, but couldn’t find it. So, I grabbed a colored pencil, and created my own washi-tape-esque border. I’m quite pleased with the result.

The washi-tape-esque border creating was meditative and zen-like. As I worked, my brain noticed, wondered, made connections and generated questions.

  • Our learners may feel and express things that don’t seem to make any sense. That doesn’t mean they can, or should, stop feeling it because we think it is unwarranted. And just like with my feelings and thoughts, talking to make me want to do it any more. It’s important to remember that sometimes encouraging, reasoning, and/or requiring doesn’t help.
  • Taking concrete steps helped! Making something — using my hands to think — enabled me to iterate, ideate, see new possibility, and create something new and even more impactful. I think an essential piece is that I used MY hands to think. I did the doing and the thinking.
  • How might I be an effective thought partner with my learners?
  • Taking the old art, and incorporating it into my life and art in a new way, required me to reexamine the old piece, find essential elements, and consider ways to incorporate these things on the new piece.
  • How might I incorporate this type of art into my Kindergartners art making experiences?
  • There’s so much to gain from this type of endeavor.
  • What are the connections to student art, learning, doing, and thinking?
  • How might I make help make these connections for and with my students?

I really like the truth that our ideas, art, thinking, writing, (perhaps everything) don’t need to be limited or confined to the original. They can be the fantabulous original, and they can also be fodder for something new and satisfying. Bringing forth something new is often — or is it always? — the purpose and power of ideas and creations. Sometimes the new is a feeling, an experience, or an understanding. Other times, it’s a new idea or creation. As I type, I’m asking myself, and you, if we will be ok when our new idea or thing requires the partial destruction of our original one. And, I’m wondering how we will help our students be ok when they are faced with the same situation.

I am the Queen

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Sometime in May, a Kindergartner approached me with a strip of paper, and asked me to write a few of my favorite words. When I asked her what it was for, she said, with a smile, “Can you just do it, Miss James?” With a chuckle I replied “Sure!”

She thanked me, walked away, and in a bit returned with a sheet of paper. “Would you help me make the crowns that you make, Miss James?” After asking her a few specifics regarding her vision for the crown, we worked together to craft something she liked. Again, she left me.

Shortly thereafter, she returned with the original strip, a second strip, and the crown. “Ok, Miss James, let’s measure your head and make your crown!” I laughed out loud! “My crown?!?!!!” With a big smile she replied “YUP!

We measured, stapled, and admired our work. She gave me a high five, and walked away with a pleased smile, announcing to her friends, “Look, Miss James has a crown!” I wore the crown for the rest of the day.

I failed to take a photo of myself, but as I went through things at the end of the year, I came upon the crown. As I read the words, I made the connection that they are some of the things that make me a queen — that give me my power. I am the queen of creativity, love, joy, laughter, and fantabulousness. That is not to say you are not, also, the queen or king of all these things. Simply a reminder from me and my Kindergartner, about me!

I placed the crown in my willow tree to grab a photo of it.

There are a few reasons I chose the willow tree.

#1: It looked interesting.

#2: It reminded me I am — while nearly always thinking, imaging, and dreaming about my learners, and my teaching — at this present moment, on summer break. And, it’s super important that I become queen of my own health, restoration, and renewal during this time.

And #3, This willow tree was just a single willow branch devoid of leaves, that I stuck into a pot of soil. My brother, assured me that I didn’t need a stick with leaves. When I took the branch from the tree that was growing, I should cut the top of the branch flat, and the bottom on a diagonal so I would remember which was which. Then, I simply needed to place it in the soil (diagonal side down), keep it watered, and make sure it got sunlight. The branch and nature would do that rest. So, trusting in the magic hidden within that small stick, I placed it in the soil.

Even before my Kindergartners left that year, the stick was already blossoming forth with beautiful green leaves. Three years later, it is much taller than I am, with a sturdy trunk and a plethora of branches.

I’m reminded that my students are very much like that stick. They may not have many leaves. Perhaps they don’t know all the letter sounds, or they struggle to share their ideas, and aren’t quite sure they believe in their own abilities and awesomeness. No matter what they show me on the outside, there is magic and incredible potential inside of them. Magic and potential that will, at some point burst forth with beautiful leaves. They will grow, learn, think, create, and flourish. I just need to trust, provide the best possible environment, and always keep the right side up!

A Haiku Walk

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I blogged about my daily haiku practice when I first started. I love the practice. I was very faithful from July through December. Then I was knee deep in teaching, coaching, and some family health issues, and my practice was set aside. The other day I found my haiku journal, and stowed it in my bag, hopeful that I’d find a moment to begin again. Days passed, and my journal remained safely tucked in my bag. I didn’t write, but each time I saw the book I thought of my Kindergartners.

My morning meeting manager composes our morning message each day. It seemed the perfect place to begin their haiku writing practice. Each one would then write five haiku poems — one a day during their week long job.

The process and products were delightful. The Kindergarten poets stared at the computer screen, thinking. They looked up thoughtfully and counted silently on their fingers. They tested sentences, and they wrote morning message haikus.

As they crafted their sentences, I practiced patience. I resisted the urge to free them from their struggle. Instead, I gave them time and space. My silence assured them I knew they could do it.

I breathed through every thought that encouraged me to watch the clock and rush them through their task. I reminded myself: “They can do it. The struggle is important. Their thoughts are valuable. Learning is happening. Breathe and wait. Wait and breathe. Accept these moments as gifts.”

Here are some of their messages. I love that the poems are infused with kindness, and affirmations. And their word play — mathy and mathists — bring me joy.

We are amazing.

We are artists and mathists.

 I love the playground.

Miss James is awesome. 

Everyone is so awesome.

Everyone is friends.

Friends are very kind.

Friends are very, very, kind.

We are very kind.

We are mathy girls.

We are mighty mathy girls.

Math is fantastic!

We are super nice.

We’re the best Kindergartners

We are always kind!

We are amazing.

We have big beautiful brains.

We are wonderful.

We are wonderful.

Everyone is amazing.

We love each other.

We are amazing.

We have big beautiful brains.

We have awesome hearts.

I loved everything about this, so I kept my eyes and mind open to other haiku possibilities. As the the days turned into beautiful spring days, I told the poets that we would be taking time during our reading block to take a haiku walk. They asked many questions: What is a haiku walk? What will we do? Can we go places we’ve never gone before? When are we going? Can we go more than once? Will we actually write haiku? I answered all their questions, and we planned our walk for the next day. Then, the weather turned cold, gray, and wet. Each day they asked if today were the day we would walk. Each day I said “Not today. It’s too wet and cold.” I knew we could walk and write when it was wet and cold, but I also imagined that better weather would lead to more joy, more writing, more willingness to engage.

Finally, on Friday, spring burst forth again. The sun was bright, and the temperature was warm enough to head out without coats. The perfect day had arrived. When I told them we were going on our haiku walk, they cheered and shouted “We’re going on our haiku walk!!!” You would have thought I told them I had candy and puppies for everyone!

We chose a spot to gather. It was large enough for them to run free, explore, and be inspired, and also small enough for us to see each other wherever they roamed. Clipboards in hand, they wandered, stopped, wrote, chatted, and sometimes abandoned the clipboards to simply run with joyous freedom.

Here are a few of their poems.

The statue is down.

Flowers are everywhere.

This flower’s pretty

The flowers are here. 

I see sticks and logs right here. 

I see the flowers.

The bees like flowers.

The flowers are everywhere.

The flowers are here.

Trees are beautiful.

The sky’s very beautiful.

We are beautiful.

There’s lots of flowers.

There is wood chips by us, too.

The trees are so long.

The statue is gray.

It looks so cool and funny.

It looks amazing.

I see trees and rocks.

I see beautiful flowers.

I see trees and grass.

I see the benches.

I see the gate and the grass.

I see signs and rocks.

As I watched, encouraged, and enjoyed the beautiful day, I joined my Kindergartners, and documented the moment in haiku.

Haikus are forming.

Fingers count syllables, then

pausing, they run free.

Laughter swirls round them.

Feet sound in quick staccatos.

Returning, they write.

Magic enfolds us.

Haiku poets all, living

and writing haiku.

These Kindergartners are mighty, capable, and filled with amazingness. It’s good to remember this, and to treat them as the humans I know they are — fantabulous, trustworthy, free, joyful, and poets of haiku.

A Gentle Little Nudge

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Each day I do what I can. I think. I research. I breathe. I pray. I care. I talk. I listen. I learn. I accept help. Some times it feels just right. Some times it feeling incredibly inadequate.

Today I read an email from Brad Montague – The Enthusiast. Among other things he talked about a conversation he had with the astronaut Ron Garan. He told about a fascinating truth — if an asteroid were hurtling toward earth, NASA wouldn’t blow it up in one mighty burst. Instead they would gently nudge it onto a new course. Yes, gently nudge it.

Amazing, right?

But it gets better. His point — other than the remarkable scientific one — is that when we have asteroids hurting towards us — whatever those challenges might be …

It’s important we remember that the path of greatest possibilities lies in little nudges. It’s not the big, violent, showy acts of force. It’s the little acts of love. Daily. Over time. These are the things that nudge us towards better tomorrows.

Brad Montague, The Enthusiast Email 3/26/23

What a great reminder. Little acts of love, of thinking, investigating, experimenting, learning, trying, failing, trying again — daily, over time — are the things make a difference.

It’s true for most all things. Trying to learn something? Keep at it. Break it into smaller parts. Don’t give up. Take breaks. It’ll make a difference.

Trying to get healthy or strong? Small steps. Keep moving. Be curious. Learn. Be.merciful to yourself. Affirm yourself for your courage. Remember to stretch. Little by little — perhaps in increments too small to notice each day — you will get healthier and stronger.

Trying to think creatively to solve a problem or bring something new into existence. Try. Fail. Learn. Try again. Look at the little things. Celebrate the little things.

Breathe. Take and celebrate little steps. Engage in little acts of love, inspiration, creativity, courage, doing, being, resting. Daily, over time, they’ll make a difference.

I’ve Been Commissioned

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It feels a bit surreal, and amazing, and a bit nerve wracking. But, yes, I’ve been asked to paint three paintings, and I’ve agreed.

So funny to put that out into the world.

But funny or not, nerve wracking or not, I’m an artist. I’m a creative, wonderful, amazing artist who is going to sell her work! Makes me laugh out loud, and want to throw up, all at once!

I’m going to stick with the laughing out loud and, I’m going to change the tapes in my own head. Yup, i’ve got more to learn. Yup, I can become even better at what I do. But to quote my Kindergartners “You’re very arty, Miss James.” and “Wow! You’re so good at that, Miss James!”

I don’t have time right now to create the paintings – teaching, coaching, and being rested and healthy fill my days. BUT, I do have time to play, experiment, learn, and enjoy my art. This was a quick morning session today.

I worked on sketching, then on laying in paint wet on wet. It was fun and I learned a lot. And, when my brother saw it, he immediately recognized it as my waxed amaryllis.

Training Our Brains for Positivity and Gratitude

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Yesterday I spent the afternoon in the infusion center. All is well. It was an opportunity to increase my health, and as it turns out, a way to work on my practice of seeing the positive and choosing gratitude.

The health center where the infusion center is located, sends reminders about appointments. I typically appreciate the reminders, but this particular one pushed many of my buttons. The reminder read “You have an appointment with Chemo Chair.” I wasn’t going for chemo, just to get some valuable medications and the help of the nurses around said Chemo Chair. None-the-less, the appointment reminder was causing the fear and protective part of my brain to fire a bit more than I liked.

To help soothe my protective brain, and turn on more of my thoughtful brain, I prepped for my appointment with Chemo Chair as I always do — with a walk, sit, breathe, and paint, in nature. As we walked I remarked to my brother that I was feeling stressed about having to go to the infusion center. As the words come out of my mouth I felt my anxiety rising. I also, thankfully, heard the word had. Actually I didn’t have to do anything. I was choosing to do it. And, it was a blessing and privilege that not everyone gets. So I reminded myself I got to do it — it was a gift I was receiving. I noted the positive, accepted it with gratitude, and walked on.

As we sat, and I painted, I noticed my focus and breath — it was calm, peaceful, and quietly joyful. I thought “I need something creative to bring me joy during my appointment with Chemo Chair.” I seriously contemplated my hiking watercolor kit, but decided something simpler with less possibility of mess might be better. I settled on creating mandala-like art on blank cards with markers — creativity, focus, joy, no mess, and I’d have my holiday thank you cards ready to go.

It was so good to have the creative outlet. I drew while I waited for a chair, and while I spent my time in the chair. It definitely brought me joy, kept me focused on good things, and was a conversation starter for people passing by.

As I navigated the many emotional, mental, and physical experiences of the afternoon I remembered this fact about our brains, from Shawn Achor:

Our brains constantly choose to focus on the negative threats or on the positive. We can practice moving our brain towards the positive, and train our brains to begin to scan for things we are grateful for.

Shawn Achor

So as I practiced noticing and controlling my breathing — in through my nose, out through my mouth — and monitored how I was feeling — I began to scan for things I was grateful for in my life and day. Here’s my list:

  • I had an appointment with Chemo Chair. Not everyone gets to have one. And, the chair was quite lovely — comfy, with options to recline or heat the seat.
  • I have access to the medications I need, insurance to help with the cost, and a great medical center close by.
  • I had food for breakfast, a warm house, a place to cook the food, a warm shower, and clothes I like to wear.
  • I have a car, money for gas, and a brother who was free and willing to drive me. He even purposefully chose a hiking video with great views and sounds to watch before we left — and then reminded me to think of them as I got my meds.
  • The nurse I encountered as I climbed the stairs to the infusion center. She seemed surprised that I said hello, but as she passed me she said “Have a great day and a Happy New Year!”
  • The people who check me in each time I go, and greet me with an enthusiastic “Good golly Miss Molly!”
  • The nurses — who work like dogs, by the way — who are professional, talented, and caring. At one point I pressed the emergency button – allergic reaction — and in a flash, or less than a flash, half a dozen nurses were in front of me. The anxious tears forming in my eyes, stopped as I laughed and said “Wow. That was so fast — and there’s so many of you!” We chuckled together as they each did their bit to check in, get a doctor, give me more meds, or smile and chat.
  • The cards and fabulous new markers that I was able to get on the cheap — I had a $5 voucher and found a 20% off coupon! I accidentally bought gatefold cards. Who even knew there were such things? This snafu miffed me at first, but then became fodder for new creative ideas and a cool design revision.
  • I finished creating more than half of my holiday thank you cards.
  • My sweet cousin, and the fab bracelet she got me, and the fact that I was able to find it as I hurried about in the morning gathering the things I wanted to bring with me.
  • I felt pretty rotten when I got done in the chair — but I didn’t have to drive myself home. And when I got home, I brewed myself a cup of tea, had a bite to eat, took some ibuprofen, and headed to bed. Again, things to be grateful for were many — my home, heat, a comfortable bed, lovely pillows, a weighted blanket, tea, hot water, a mug I love, a ridiculously large water thermos gifted by a Kindergartner who’s mom said to me “It’s life changing, Miss James!” I laughed when she said it, but I gotta say, it was wonderful to have it by my bed so I didn’t have to get up for refills!
  • My family and friends who always support and love me, and who pray for me and send good vibes always — but especially when I’m feeling less than fantabulous.
  • And then of course the gigantic things like beautiful weather, peace, breath, and life.

I keep saying I’m going to do a daily gratitude practice, and then don’t. I think I may see if I can add it to my nighttime routine. I may not write anything down for now. I think making it simple and able to be down with nothing other than my heart and mind will make me more likely to stick with it. If you give it a try, let me now how it goes.

Peace. Love. Positivity. Gratitude.

Opportunities for Math Play

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We have fun-days in math each week. Usually they’re Fridays — because of the alliteration and the opportunity to wrap up the week with some small groups. But sometimes — when Friday Funday doesn’t work out, we start the next week with Monday Funday! Love the rhyming and joy it brings.

Our Fundays — be they Fridays or Mondays — do many things. They:

  • allow my mighty mathematicians to engage with numbers and mathematical concepts and processes through play. This helps them grow in competence and confidence as they grow their math muscle and mindsets. (And remember, Play is Fun and Powerful!)
  • provide opportunities for practicing things we are working on — +1, -1, counting, greater than and less than, partner numbers, counting on, shapes, patterns, and much more — by playing games.
  • give choice and agency to the Kindergarten mathematicians. Sometimes they choose from a curated list of possibilities, other times the entire math center is fair game.
  • give me the opportunity to work with small groups while the rest of the mathematicians are engaged in productive play.

Early in the year I added two types of paper to the math center. One has dots, the other has a grid of squares. I believe the squares are 1/2 inch squares and the dots are 1/2 inches away from each other. When I added the paper, I wasn’t sure what the Kindergarten mathematicians would do with it. I was purposeful in my choices — grids and dots of this size allow for many mathematical possibilities — but I didn’t have one specific thing that I wanted them to do. Instead I gave them something that might lead them towards mathematical play and exploration. For a while, no one used the papers. Then a few used the square grid paper to create patterns.

The Friday before our winter break this happened.

They used the dots to create patterns, and they used the grid to write numbers! Oh.my.gosh! ON THEIR OWN!!! I was super excited to see this. They were practicing writing and counting. They were noticing patterns, helping one another, using their current and prior knowledge to solve new problems, and teaching me more about what they know and don’t yet know. I gathered these papers and took the picture — at these two tables, with my feet in the photo — with intention! I wanted to document their work and emphasize their curiosity. And, I wanted to emphasize my own curiosity and interest in their work, thinking, understanding, and problem solving.

These mathematicians were psyched by the work they did, and the large numbers they were able to write. The one triumphantly reported that she had written to 1000! The other wanted to write more, but wasn’t sure how to write the numbers past 109. In both instances I acknowledged their amazing work and then entered into mathematical discourse with them.

We talked a bit about what they wrote, and how they decided to write it they way they did. We wondered if it were possible that 1000 would come so soon after 100. We noticed how the numbers preceding 110 were written. We talked about what made sense and why it made sense. We worked together to figure out the conventional way to write the numerals greater than 109. We ended the way we began — celebrating our thinking and work, acknowledging our big beautiful brains and awesome hearts, honoring our courage, might, and joy as mathematicians.

The Intrigue of Leaves

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Leaves hold an amazing amount of intrigue for my Kindergarten artists — and for me! I love collecting leaves as I hike, especially knowing I’m going to share them with my artists. I purposefully look for leaves that have a lovely color, an interesting shape, or an exaggerated size (large or small).

When I come in with my stash of leaves, I am always greeted with a plethora of questions and comments.

  • Ooooh! Where’d you get those?
  • They’re so BIG (or small).
  • What are you going to do with them ?
  • Can I touch them?
  • Can I have this one?

    More questions, comments, oohs and aahhs, and claiming of leaves, come as I explain, “We’re going to paint them.”

The intrigue gets to a fever pitch as I pull out our antique paper press.

The circle of Kindergartners tighten in around me and the press. Their curiosity is peaked, and they have more questions.

  • Ooooh! What’s that?
  • What are you going to do with that?
  • Why are you doing that?
  • Can I do it?

I tell them it’s a press, and we’re going to use it to press the leaves so that they will dry flat instead of curled and wrinkly. I explain a few safety issues, and let everyone take a turn loading leaves and paper towels, and cranking the press tight. The burning question becomes: “Can we paint them NOW?” I respond: “Nope, they need to stay in the press until tomorrow.”

“This is going to be an exercise in patience.” I say only to myself.

Finally tomorrow arrives. We open the press and extract the leaves. The Kindergartners are mesmerized by the intense flatness of each leaf. The gently sort through the leaves and choose their favorites.

We paint the leaves using paint markers. The markers allow the artists to more easily add detail. I join them at the table with my own favorite leaf. Sometimes they are very talkative — admiring each others work. At other moments they are silent, eyes, mind, and hands intent on creating the perfect piece of leaf art. The structure of the leaf sometimes guides their design, at other times, they approach the leaf as more of a blank canvas. Always, the uniqueness of painting a leaf — versus a piece of paper — grabs their attention and interest.

I’m fascinated by the way photos — intentionally taken — remove the smallness of the Kindergartners. Instead their hands could the the hands of any aged artist. I love that.

I decided to take photos that highlighted their leaf art. I processed the photos to remove the saturation and color from the background leaving their leaves as the stars, while still including a bit of information about each artist.

When you have leaves available to you, give this a try. It’s a fun activity that is filled with opportunity for exploration, learning, trying, collaborating, creating, and growing as artists and a community. Oh! And if you ever have the change to pick up an old paper press on the cheap –grab it! The possibilities in the classroom are endless.