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I watched a TED Talks with actor Adam Driver who plays Darth Vader’s son in the last two Star Wars movies. He is one great actor! The new Star Wars movie (saw it yesterday) is outstanding.
What he does outside of the movie world is remarkable, and mirrors what I do with children.
Adams’s pathway to Star Wars is surprising. After 9/11 he enlisted into the Marines. In his words, “It was the right thing to do.” He was thrust into a diverse world where everyone got along, and got your back. Friendships were tight, and so were routines and orders.
Adam was wounded. All his fellow Marines were there at the hospital. A band of brothers. He never forgot this.
After serving in the Marines he studied acting, something he had loved since high school. He felt strongly about expressing words and feelings, and knew that for many of his Marine buddies and members of the military, this was not always easy.
Adam thought of providing entertainment of all sorts, as a medium for words and thoughts, to those who don’t have an opportunity to express themselves. Brilliant! He began a non profit, Arts in the Armed Forces. This simply brought reading and speaking, and performing a little of everything — often words from plays or books — that soldiers hadn’t heard before. Words that opened their world. Words that opened their eyes. Words that gave them the way to express their own words and feelings.
Books do that. Words do that. It struck me that I am doing for children what Adam and Arts in the Armed Forces is doing for soldiers and sailors. I am giving children words and opening their world. Book after book, from picture books to chapter reading, builds upon all those words. Scaffolding. Suddenly, children begin to relate and understand. They use those words and learn to express themselves and to understand others.
The arts hold the power to make a difference and enhance learning. Thank you, Adam Driver:
Jennie
Over twenty years ago there were two little girls in my preschool class, Michelle and Nicole. Sisters. Michelle was full of heart. She cried at The Runaway Bunny. She was always the star in our plays. I think her most memorable performance was Rapunzel, wearing a long knitted scarf as her hair. Nicole was ever-cheerful. She asked questions all the time, and constantly had a cluster of friends. Lunchtime conversations were always fascinating, thanks to Nicole.
Together, these two sisters embodied joy and heart and character.
Their mom, Anne, loved to bake. She came into the class and helped the children make sticky buns. That was really fun! Talk about a hands-on activity… the best. Then, Christmas came along. Anne and the girls showed up at my door on Christmas Eve with a delivery of sticky buns. I was so touched! And, oh were they ever good.
The girls grew older, too old for my preschool class. Yet, the following year another Christmas Eve delivery of sticky buns arrived at my door. And the following year, and the next, and on and on, and again this year:
As the years went by, we kept in touch about school, then the worry and excitement of college applications and acceptances. Then, there were new jobs, moving away from home, and changing jobs. Life was constantly changing and evolving, and we shared those stories together like family. Christmas Eve and the delivery of sticky buns became an annual get-together. We spend the evening sharing stories of loss and sorrow, health worries, joyous moments in life, and belly laughing over the funny, little things.
Always the best Christmas Eve.
My preschool children over twenty years ago are now like a family to me. In the words of their mother, Woo Hoo!
Jennie
As the holidays and winter are upon us, I am once again drawn to the best book. Fall in love with a dog, a poet, and children- magnificently written.
“Dogs speak words. But only poets and children hear.”
Those are the opening words in Patricia MacLachlan’s new book, The Poet’s Dog. I have read the book twice, because there are many words not to be missed; words that are pure and don’t need added adjectives and text. MacLachlan’s writing stands alone in a field of masterful literature. Her eighty-eight pages are some of the best I have ever read. In the words of the publisher:
“Alone in a fierce winter storm, Nickel and Flora are brave but afraid. A dog finds them. Teddy speaks words and brings them to shelter. The Poet’s cabin has light and food and love. But where is the poet? Teddy will tell the story of how words make poems and connect to those who hear each other.”
Sylvan the poet constantly reads to Teddy. He reads Yeats and Shakespeare. He also reads Charlotte’s Web, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and Ox Cart Man. Teddy learns how words follow one another.
I had no idea that Ox Cart Man, one of my favorite children’s books, is actually a poem. I scrambled to find my copy and read the words again, this time seeing the words for what they are meant to be – a poem. When I read the book again to my preschoolers this month, it will be more beautiful than ever.
The Poet’s Dog is a story of adventure, survival, love and friendship, death, reading and poetry. The beginning is a fishing line that hooks the reader, and the ocean opens to… well, you will have to read the book The ending is as surprising as ever.
I told a friend and fellow teacher about The Poet’s Dog and quoted to her the first lines, “Dogs speak words. But only poets and children hear.” Our conversation went something like this:
“I hear my cat. I know what she’s saying.”
“Then you must be either a child or a poet.”
“I’m a child. My heart is always a child. And I love poetry.”
She smiled a knowing smile. I did, too.
Jennie
P.S. Dogs: Maddie, Ollie, Ani, Bailey and Lucy… and more – tell your human to read this book.
Today our Room Parents arrived with gifts for the teachers, from all the families in our class. Children were excited to watch their teachers tear open paper and uncover a gift. Rarely am I at a loss for words. I was when I opened the gift.
It was a book, Our Aqua Room Family. Family. That word somehow becomes cemented in September. It is much like a badge, something everyone wears, feels and just knows. We’re a family.
This was the first page:
Our family comes from many towns:
Our hair is straight, our hair is brown,
Our hair is curled, our eyes are blue, Our skins are different colors, too.
We’re girls and boys, we’re big and small,
We’re young and old, we’re short and tall.
We’re everything that we can be
And still we are a family.
We laugh and cry, we work and play,
We help each other ever day.
The world’s a lovely place to be
Because we are a family.
The following pages in the book were done by each child, drawing our Aqua Room family. Page after page depicted a child’s view of friends and teachers.
Here is Savannah’s page:
The final page was the pinnacle:
The definition of family!
Life’s greatest blessing. A group that dreams, laughs, plays and loves together. Those whom you can always count on. Always present not only in the good times. The most precious gift.
That’s my class. The thread of being and doing (family) becomes who we are. Children and teachers always talk about being a family, because we are. Thank goodness the parents know and understand that, and feel the same way.
Here’s to Family!
Jennie
I want to share with you my favorite Christmas books. I love books, and I love reading to children. After a gazillion years, these are the ‘tried and true’, stories that children love. Me, too!
Grab tissues, laughter, and wonder, and some history. Some books you will recognize. Others might seem new, but they’re not— they’re just better.
The first time I read The Polar Express, by Chris Van Allsburg was was in 1985, when the book was published. I was at a huge family Christmas gathering. Someone put the book in my hand and asked me to read it to the crowd. This was a new book for me, and as I read the words I was on that train ride. The ending was hard to read aloud with my heart in my throat. The movie is good, but the book is superior.
On Christmas Eve, by Peter Collington is a captivating wordless book, in the style of The Snowman by Raymond Briggs. It is based in England, with fairies and Santa Claus traditions. It is fascinating to follow the fairies helping Santa!
If I had to pick only one out of the pile of books, it would be Apple Tree Christmas, by Trinka Hakes Noble. The story takes place in New Hampshire in the 1800’s. A blizzard, a farm, a tree, and a child who loves to draw. It is thrilling from beginning to end… grab the tissues, it’s a true story.
My almost number one book is The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree, by Gloria Houston. The story takes place in rural Appalachia, close to my roots. It is a story of rural traditions, WWI, a train, and what a mother does on Christmas Eve. And, it’s a true story. Recommended for kindergarten and above.
Merry Christmas, Strega Nona, by Tomie dePaola is a favorite. Everyone loves Strega Nona and Big Anthony. This book incorporates the culture of Italy and Christmas, and the lessons of life.
Night Tree, by Eve Bunting is a modern tale that tells the story of a family and their tree in the woods. Every Christmas Eve the family bundles up and heads from their house to the woods. They find “their tree”, the one they have decorated every year for the animals. It is a well written story, weaving adventure and giving, and family being together.
Dr. Seuss has always been one of the best. He outdid himself with How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The message of the true meaning of Christmas shines through in this book. Please skip the movie, it doesn’t hold a candle to the book.
Every adult should read these books. Period. They are that good. Then, spread the joy and learning by reading aloud these books to children, young and old. They will love the stories. You will, too.
Merry Christmas!
Jennie
Today I was a small part of honoring those who have served and given the ultimate sacrifice. A wreath was laid at Arlington National Cemetery at noon. Simultaneously, cemeteries across America participated in the same wreath laying ceremony. It was humbling. I was proud to be there.
Thanks to Wreaths Across America, people all over the country could be part of this important event. There’s something special about small town America. Seems to me that paying respect in my own back yard has far more meaning. Close to home and close to heart. It feels good.
Westford is the next town over and much like my small town of Groton, full of old homes and a pretty landscape. People smile and greet each other. Neighbors help neighbors. The cemetery is close to the center of town. For a small town it is a big cemetery, and full of the graves of veterans.
I did not know what to expect. First, the Girl Scout Chorus chorus sang “The Star-Spangled Banner” acapella. Beautiful! Then, the Cub Scouts said the Pledge of Allegiance. A member of each of the Armed Forces laid one of the wreaths. Sergeant Curran Huff, our classroom pen-pal last year, was one of the wreath layers. It was wonderful to watch him!
Have you ever heard TAPS played? It is beautiful and stirring to listen to the lone bugle. Each note seems to hang in the air. A fitting closing to an important event.
Volunteers stayed to place a wreath on every headstone of a veteran. Quite a lengthy and worthy task. Next year I will stay.
People often wait to honor members of our military, past and present, on Memorial Day and Veterans Day, and the Fourth of July. That’s like only giving thanks at Thanksgiving, or only spreading cheer at Christmastime. Saying thanks and remembering should happen all the time.
It did today.
Jennie
Words of wisdom from Ritu, a teacher and a mother.
The classroom was dark except for a few strings of twinkling lights. It was time for chapter reading before rest time. We started a new chapter reading book, Mr. Popper’s Penguins. Day one is always thrilling, and I show children the cover before reading.
We read the first chapter with great interest and discussion. Then, we began to read chapter two. As soon as I read the title, The Voice in the Air, Allie said, “Is that God? He’s in the air, you know.”
I stopped. Everybody stopped. I smiled the biggest smile in the whole wide world at Allie. Words can fill a vessel. Allie’s words filled mine.
I said, “Let’s read and find out.”
Spontaneously, Noah said, “Jennie, I love you.” When children say that on their own, they have felt a great moment of being covered in a warm blanket. I knew Noah felt so good that he had to tell me. I also knew that his feelings started with chapter reading. He was really saying “Thank you for reading to me. I love this story. I feel good when I’m on my nap mat and you read aloud. I like what Allie said.” I think there was probably more in his heart. Children don’t have the words that adults do. Noah’s words spoke volumes.
As I read the chapter aloud, the words said Mr. Popper put on his spectacles. Spectacles. Every new and different word opens a whole conversation. That is the power and beauty of reading aloud, where there are no pictures. Every word becomes crystal clear and drives the mind, and also the heart.
Penguins. That drove a big conversation, especially when we learned about pushing off the cliff and sea leopards. Reality and survival are not easy topics to teach children. Thank goodness there have been a host of writers who have put into words life and goodness and struggle. Thank goodness for books and chapter reading. It’s my yellow brick road for children.
I knew as soon as we talked about Antarctica that children needed and wanted to see the South Pole in the context of the world. I promised I would show them the picture from our Big Book Atlas.
I always show children any pictures in the book after we finish reading. As I did so, Noah belted out, “Jennie, you forgot ‘In the great green room’! He was right. And he was talking about Goodnight Moon. I recite that book every day before chapter reading. I was so excited about starting a new book and showing the cover that I’d forgotten to recite Goodnight Moon.
Noah had not forgotten.
After rest time I pulled out our favorite big map book so we could see Antarctica. Oh, how we loved exploring. This is what happens when children ask questions and wonder.
Jennie
A Teacher's Reflections 