Patriotism is a constant thread in my classroom, from the American flag to singing songs. Here are the children “flying to the red white and blue”:
These moments happen all the time. They’re spontaneous and driven by the children.
We hold a school-wide Memorial Day Remembrance every year at the Memory Garden. Yes, our school really has a Memory Garden on the playground. It is a lovely place to just be. Classroom pets are buried there, and special stones are placed to remember a parent and also a child who died. The plants and flowers attract hummingbirds and butterflies.
Today our This Land is Your Land quilt was hanging for the Memorial Day Remembrance.
My class always gets to hold the big American flag. We’re the ones who wear the flag hats. A member of the military is an honored guest and plants flags in the Memory Garden with the help of children.
Children know that our Memory Garden is a place of reverence. Watching a soldier planting American flags… they understand.
It was a very special day. My children look forward to saying “thank you” to those brave men and women they see in uniform.
Jennie
When good reading happens in my classroom, it opens the door to so many other things. Children have questions and ideas. Interrupting in the middle of chapter reading means children are listening and interested. I can answer those questions and get back to reading, or I can do more and follow through on those questions.
I do more and follow through on those questions.
It’s called emergent curriculum. Here’s how it goes: a teacher reads, or gives a lesson. Children (or a single child) ask a question or make a comment. That comment leads to something interesting yet completely different. It’s like taking children into the woods and finding divergent paths, and then a child asks “Why can’t we climb a tree to see where they go?”
Here’s what happened this week:
I chapter read at rest time, and always walk over to each child to show them the picture at the end of the story. Eddie had fallen asleep and missed the picture. When children woke up…
Eddie: “Jennie, you forgot to show me the picture.”
Me: “Eddie, you fell asleep. Would you like to see the picture now?”
Of course he did. And the other children did, too. So, we gathered around the table to see the picture together. Children shoved in like a can of sardines. My book is old and falling apart. Somehow that makes it all the more wonderful. Children instinctively know its ‘been around the block’ many times, and they have a reverence, as if the book itself has many stories to tell.
We looked at the picture Eddie missed. We looked at more pictures. And children started to ask to see the pictures they remember.
“Jennie, where is the picture of Ma when the log fell on her foot?”
“Jennie, where is the picture of Bunny?”
“Jennie, why did Jack always walk under the wagon? Didn’t they go a long way?”
The window of opportunity just opened.
“I think Jack liked walking. He must have had plenty of rest every night. They did go a long way. They started in Wisconsin… wait, let me get the map book so we can see.”
We followed the pathway, starting in Wisconsin. The can of sardines suddenly became very tight. My finger went across the river to Minnesota (stopping to remember crossing the river), then down to Iowa and Missouri, then across to Kansas. Hearing the words in the story is best, seeing those words come alive in pictures makes it stick. So, I left the book and the map book out for children to explore.
“Jennie, where is the river they crossed?”
We found the Mississippi River. I traced it to the Gulf of Mexico. I told children that all rivers go into the ocean. And then we traced all the rivers on the big map book. It was ‘I Spy meets geography’. Learning is fun.
Mac looked at the map book carefully. He had been quiet all along. Then he pointed to something on the map book – four faces. “What’s that?”
Another window of opportunity presents itself: Mount Rushmore in South Dakota, which has no correlation to Little House on the Prairie. That’s how emergent curriculum works. Small windows of opportunity that must be grabbed, seizing the moment.
Oh, how we talked about Mount Rushmore! While we learned who the presidents were – no interest to preschoolers – I switched to carving the stone. Preschoolers like building, and they can understand carving.
“Mac, if you were carving Mount Rushmore, you would be much smaller than any of the noses.” I described this in every possible way. It was no use. Mac and the others could not understand how big the monument is, and how they would be smaller than a nose. A picture is worth a thousand words.
Looking at this photo, children have never been so quiet. They gained a piece of understanding and appreciation. It was chapter reading that brought them through a great journey of learning. Thank goodness we got off the track.
Jennie
This tree on the playground is beside the climbing structure.
It is gorgeous.
Today we stopped climbing to look.
Really look.
It was windy, so petals we’re flying everywhere.
And children paid attention.
They soaked up the wind and flying petals and beauty
in the way adults always hope children will do.
“Wherever you are – look up, down, and around your own environment.
Then share your discoveries with others and get them excited, too.”
-Steve the Crossing Guard-
Jennie
In Part 3, we made a giant sketch for the quilt based on what the children felt were important parts of the song and the book, “This Land is Your Land.” Woody’s guitar, the church from the ‘sad page’, landmarks in America, and even Gloria were most important to children. Next, Donna the quilter arrived with fabrics. I mean a truckload of beautiful, interesting fabrics, not the kind you or I would find at a regular fabric store. Children had a heyday with the fabrics before getting down to serious selecting.
Then, Donna arrived with the face of the quilt, sewn just like the sketch, with the fabrics children had selected. The last part, selecting fabric for the border and lettering, seemed the hardest for the children. I wonder if Woody felt the same way when he selected the words to his song. It was a wonderful day.
Part 4
The quilt was gone for a while. Children felt like it was gone for a long time. We knew that it went to the ‘long arm machine’ and while we waited, we watched videos on YouTube that showed the machine at work.
This did not help at all.
And finally the quilt came back from the big machine, and came home to us.
Children were overwhelmed in the best of ways. It took a long, long time for them to see everything. There was so much more than when they last saw the face of the quilt.
Together we found the rays of the sun, the raised and sparkling fireworks, the waving kite tails, and twenty apples on the tree (for twenty children in our class). Then we looked closely. There are strings on Woody’s guitar. Really. The quilting from the long arm machine makes smoke from the chimney, clouds in the sky, fish in the Gulf Stream waters, and pebbles in the desert. The land is lumpy and bumpy to represent hills. The border is a decorated fabric. So are the letters, and they are stiff and rough. It is a wonder, from big to subtle.
The final piece was sewing a dedication onto the back, Donna’s words:
From the love for their community and their country,
an idea was born and this quilt was created.
The inspiration was the book and song,
This Land is Your Land.
With love and support from teachers and quilters,
the visions of the children were woven together through words,
drawings, music and finally fabric.
Our children have such wonderful dreams and inspirations.
The adults in their lives are honored to help their dreams come true.
April 2019
Groton Community School
Groton, Massachusetts
It is a quilt to be admired. And it is, from many people. I was directed to the Guthrie Center in Massachusetts. “Jennie, you should tell them about this quilt.” I did, and more importantly I told them about the song and passion children have for singing. They forwarded my email to Arlo Guthrie’s company (Woody’s son) and I got an email from his daughter (she does his bookings) asking for more information. I said something like, “How wonderful it would be for Arlo to hear children sing to him his father’s favorite song” and I invited him into my classroom to sign the quilt. No word back. I’m not holding my breath, but I am so very glad that I made the gesture, because I know that he would indeed be moved.
Children continue to be in love with the quilt. Mia decided to make her own drawing. The fireworks are on the left. So is the house and our school. The rainbow is in the center, and Gloria is holding the kite.
Our current chapter reading book is Little House on the Prairie. Last week Pa finished building the house, except for the roof, floor, and door. He and Ma put a quilt in the door hole. Ethan, one of our younger children, immediately said, “Just like Donna’s quilt!” He was so excited to make a quilt connection. And those connections keep happening, every day. Even Travis keeps singing the song when he comes, and children love it.
What a wonderful journey for the children.
Jennie
It takes more wisdom to be a child than to be an adult.
C.S. Lewis understood this, but not until he was fifty.
“When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty, I read them openly. When I became a man, I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”
Thank you Sue Vincent for posting this a long time ago. It has stayed with me. I want to keep these words alive. Read fairy tales with abandon. Read them out loud. They have far more wisdom than we realize. Sometimes it takes us until we’re fifty to truly understand. C.S. Lewis got it.
Jennie
When there’s something wrong
In your neighborhood
Who you gonna call? Alexa!
“Alexa, play ‘Shout’ by the Isley Brothers.”
Music is the universal language of mankind. –Henry Wadsworth Longfellow-
Jennie
It has taken me nearly seven decades to fully appreciate the canvas that Mother Nature paints every day. And I still have a long way to go. Often I feel more humbled than appreciative. I’m working on that. Because this is what I saw today:
It’s the view from my front porch. There were no leaves on the red maple tree yesterday, and the crab apple blossoms were barely there. I looked, nodded, and only smiled yesterday, but not today.
Mother Nature has made her welcome.
“Jennie, pay attention.”
I did.
“You have to stop and smell the roses.”
“I know…”
“Didn’t Alberta tell you that?”
“She did. All the time. I miss her.”
“She misses you, too. She wants me to tell you that. That’s why I made everything burst into spring today. She wants you to stop and smell the roses.”
“Thank you, Mother Nature. I will. Please tell Alberta that I love and miss her.”
“I will. But she already knows. Oh, she wants me to tell you she is very glad that you have the children in your classroom stop and smell the roses. It makes her smile everyday. Those butterflies in the fall that you had children follow – she loved that.”
“Jennie, she was there with you and the children. She wants you to do the same thing – stop and see all the beauty that is right there – because she loves you.”
“Thank you, Mother Nature. I will.”
Happy Mother’s Day. Stop and smell the roses.
“Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.” -E.B. White-
Jennie
Riley and I are the two non-Captain America Superheroes in this photo. But day in and day out, Riley is the real Superhero, the one who is always brave, helps her friends, and leads the way. Always. And with a smile.
Maybe Riley thinks I am a Superhero, too. She told me so today.
Thank you, Riley. I want everybody to be like you when they grow up.
Jennie
Reading aloud happened today, twice. Both events spanned years – well, connected years – yet were about the same child. Let me explain.
This is the time of year that I chapter read fact, not fiction books. I start with Little House in the Big Woods, and move to Little House on the Prairie.
Jackson was glued to Little House on the Prairie many years ago.
One of my greatest memories is reading aloud the chapter, “Crossing the Creek.” Jackson loved chapter reading, and this chapter is full of excitement, worry, and tears. I have to stand and walk as I read the words. I always get choked up. Laura’s family crosses the creek in the covered wagon and everything goes wrong. When the family is finally on the other side, Laura says, “Where’s Jack?”
Jack is their dog. This is so sad. And that is where I have to stand up and read, pace, cry, and reach out to all the children in the room. This is humanity and empathy.
Jackson pulled his blanket over his head. I could tell he was crying, not by sounds, but by his body moving with his silent sobs. I scooped him up. The story is one of my very favorite blog posts from years ago.
Today Jackson returned to school to read aloud to my class, his old class. He wanted to do this. He is an excellent reader (no surprise). Those early years of reading aloud have given him the tools and the passion to become a reader.
Here’s the best part: today was the day I read aloud the chapter, “Crossing the Creek.” Same chapter, same child, on the same day he visits to read aloud. Thank you, Jackson.
Jennie
A Teacher's Reflections 