Those LIttle Things Do Mean A Lot!

Two Writing Teachers host Slice of Life Tuesdays

When Ruth Ayres, of Two Writing Teachers wrote in her personal blog, Discover, Play, Build of a search for the little things that teachers do to make a difference, I was intrigued, and wrote one response.  I continue to be interested in the search for more.  As I contemplate those little things, I find many, ones that I remember from my own classroom, and those I am beginning to observe as I visit classrooms.  Perhaps I will write still another post about these little things, because I believe that teachers everywhere have created wonderful teaching moments, specific and personal to them that enhance their work in literacy.  Perhaps someone will read an idea and use it with his or her own students?

 When there are small challenges to meet some certain needs of students, teachers so often devise little things that help.  One challenge I remember was to help students to slow down when reading or writing or working on a project. What a challenge it was to explain, or show, all the layers of a task in order to do it better!  Numerous direct lessons and time to practice is often the key, however, so often, students want to be done, for the teacher to say, “that’s enough”.  Another way to view it is to improve students’ metacognition, defined as their awareness or analysis of one's own learning or thinking processes, according to the online Merriam – Webster dictionary.  One year I began using the phrase SO FAR with the students. “What has happened SO FAR in your writing, reading, project”?  I began to write the words on the white board at the beginning of the day and during morning meeting, when making plans for work time, I reminded students to ask themselves questions like, “SO FAR, what have I done in my writers notebook, what do I need to do, when will I do it?” or “SO FAR, where am I in my book, what has happened, what do I believe will happen next?”  

The discussions of SO FAR continued, and while there were still instances of students turning in what seemed like hurried assignments, improvement in first drafts and talk about books also occurred.  It seems that the two little words made a difference in my students’ learning and attention to that learning.  

Monday Memory - One Tradition

My daughter was out visiting this past Sunday; she’s in the city and I live in the outskirts, so to visit is a bigger deal, especially now with two young children.  It was fun to be with the granddaughters and just visit for a while.  She returned to work last week, so we’ll see her less now.  Her sister-in-law and family are coming to stay for Thanksgiving, so my daughter will do the dinner this year, with me bringing odds and ends.  We made a list of the possible menu, and one of the musts I will bring is cranberry relish.  It’s one of those traditions that must BE. 

I don’t know when or where I found the recipe, but I have it clipped and taped into a recipe box I’ve kept for all my married life.  Simple.  Just grind one pound of cranberries, two navel oranges and one cup of walnuts.  Add one cup of sugar and it’s complete!  We love it, or at least most of us do.  It brings back memories of the many times I’ve made it, like the first time my son and my daughter were old enough to help with the grinding.  I have an old metal grinder.  You know - the kind that attaches to the cabinet shelf.  I have used it sparingly because I no longer make ham salad, and never have made sausage.  I have made pimento cheese with it, but not for years.  Now, it is taken out only for cranberry relish.  It makes a mess when we grind because of the juiciness of the fruit, so we put down newspapers and a big bowl that will catch much of the drips.  To make about a quart, it really is a big production, but as I said, it’s an important Thanksgiving preparation production!  I remember trying to use the workbench in the garage because of all the mess, but nearly froze because it was so cold.  And I remember doing it for the first time with my grandson.  One year we heard about a new kind of relish on NPR from Susan Stamberg’s Mama.  It sounded awful, but we decided that something new would be interesting, so traipsed around at the last minute finding horseradish and sour cream.  Sorry, but I still can’t believe that anyone likes it.  It was awful!  The next year, we returned to our own cran relish.

The history of cranberries, according to the Cape Cod Cranberry Growers’ Association is one of only three native fruits that are commercially grown, along with Concord grapes and blueberries.  On one of the trips to the Boston area with my students during a year of studying American history, we visited a cranberry grower, and their bogs, harvested a few, and discussed the environmental needs and challenges today.  We bought some cranberries and later cooked them in our kitchen, serving up a big pot of sweetened berries with the oatmeal the next morning.  It was fascinating to see where they grow for us in Colorado, where we live in such a dry climate that never will we see a bog growing these berries.  This same growers’ site says: The name "cranberry" derives from the Pilgrim name for the fruit, "craneberry", so called because the small, pink blossoms that appear in the spring resemble the head and bill of a Sandhill crane. European settlers adopted the Native American uses for the fruit and found the berry a valuable bartering tool. 

Another web site, Cranberry Creations, gives information about Native use of the berry:  The Lenni-lenape Indians of New Jersey called the cranberry "ibimi" meaning 'bitter berry.' They used this wild red berry as a part of their food and as a symbol of peace and friendship. The Chippawas called the cranberry "a'ni-bimin," the Alogonquin called it "atoqua," and the Naragansetts called it "sasemineash." Native Americans would eat it raw, mixed in with maple sugar, or with deer meat (as a dried "Pemmican").

It’s a good thing to have traditions and it’s a good thing to try new things once in a while, and I apply this to my teaching as well.  If we travel to eat elsewhere, we may have to settle for that jellied stuff that comes from a can, sliced into small rounds, put onto lettuce with other fruit.  It’s not the kind of cranberry dish I “relish”, but may be for others.  Sometimes I add cranberries to a sweet potato casserole, and I keep bags of berries so I can add them to banana or pumpkin bread.  Not only are they delicious, but are considered one of the “super foods”, with several health benefits.    We will have cranberry relish as long as we have our Thanksgiving dinners together.  It’s tradition!

One More Time

Poetry Friday today - at Laura Salas New Site - writing the world for kids

from Australia

    Among the numerous kinds of books I love to read, nature journals are a favorite.  The words of Abbey, Muir, Bass, Beston, Carson, Leopold, Dillard, Thoreau, Nabham, and others inspire me.  When I find new authors I am excited to learn of their lives, and to read about their experiences.  I have recently discovered a well-known naturalist of Australia who wrote a poem that sources say is a favorite of many natives to that country.  As it includes words about October, and is about a beautiful mountain area in that country, and because I live in the Rockies, I am pleased to share this discovery.  I know, I know, it’s November, but I hate not to share! 

     The poem is titled Bellbirds, by Henry Kendall, and as the site says, it is a beloved poem known to many in Australia. 

It begins:

       By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,

       And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling:

       It lives in the mountain where moss and the sedges

       Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges.

And the rest of the poem is here.

Snowy Memories

It snowed today in Colorado, a wonderful eight inches or so, and I didn't have to go to work.  I will work the rest of the week, but today was wonderful--no rushing out the door, but actually having the time to shovel the sidewalks and enjoy hot coffee several times before and after the shoveling.  

Winter’s cold settles into Missouri, where I grew up, in late autumn and doesn’t offer many warm, sunny days until spring.  It isn’t like Colorado, where I’ve lived most of my adult life, where t-shirts and shorts show up even in January.  The sun hides often during Missouri winters, the snow stays around for a long time and freezes to hard and dirty ridges that are hard to walk or drive over.  On the other hand, big winter storms in Missouri can fill the sky with white goose feathers, moist and beautiful.  They are so ready to make drivers’ nightmares of hills, but also create marvelously slick runs for those wooden sleds with metal runners, like my own childhood’s Flexible Flyer.

Before I moved to the city, before I was twelve, I lived in a small town of about 800 people.  All my relatives were near—grandparents, aunts and uncles—ready to give me, my cousins, and friends happy times.  One of the happiest and most adventurous experiences came on snowy days, when some one of the adults would tie our sleds to a car and take us flying around town on the snow-packed streets.  Remember, on a snowy day in a little town years ago there would have been little traffic.  Even if we had met another car, they would have watched out for us.  We were safe back there behind the car and loving every fling around the corners.  It was especially exciting when we hooked up two sleds to the bumper and had the added challenge of avoiding collisions.  Sometimes our bodies slid off the sleds and careened over slippery roads, up onto curbs.  The driver would finally notice we were gone, probably by our screams to stop, stop.  We would get up, brush off, reposition the sleds, and move right on. 

This special sledding only happened in the beginning of the snowy days.  After that, even the few vehicles driving would wear off enough snow so that the sled wouldn’t always glide, but would hit bare spots that tore up the runners.  The sledding also happened late afternoons, because we were usually in school, so really didn’t get ready until after four.  It was getting dark by about five. We had an hour of pure adrenalin-charged fun until we had to call it quits.

We arrived back home, peeled off frozen, sopping wet clothes, and drank hot chocolate while we screamed and giggled remembering the curves, bumps, and near disasters.  Our skin warmed and we waited for supper.  

Learning Is Hard!

TUESDAY SLICE OF LIFE IS FOUND AT TWO WRITING TEACHERS

     New class-New Learning.  Lots of hours to try to get it right!

      Please use this link to see my post today.  I tried an experiment to see if I could embed the 'glog' into the post.  It was either too big, or so small that no one could read the different pieces.  But, I did learn again how to do Glogster.  Other applications I'm working on are Evernote, Mindmeister and LiveBinder.

     If you have a favorite read aloud-please share in the comments.

     Thanks for your patience with a new idea!