Harry Potter Manifesto

Yesterday was the first day I have ever had where I hated Ann Arbor. In six years, this was the only day where I hated-hated-hated Ann Arbor. Yesterday, if I realized that if I lived in another town, I could be happy. Yesterday, I had to reconcile that I hated the very town-- and many of its ticket-holding inhabitants-- in which I lived.

Yesterday I was unable to get Harry Potter tickets for Friday night at a normal time. I am old, so I can't go to late movie at 10:45 since I will simply pay the ticket price for a nap at that hour; I can't stay awake after 10 pm! I cannot go to an early movie at 3:00pm since the school will get mad if I do not pick-up my first grader at 3:42.

Last night I smugly tried ordering tickets from my computer. I thought to myself how tricky it was to get movie tickets when we lived in New York City and how we had to order ahead with movie phone. How civilized it felt living in Michigan, with its plentiful movie tickets and unplanful patrons. And sometimes, it snows so much no one can even get to the movies. I chuckled and clicked.

Click. Click. I kept getting error messages. The first theater had a 7:30 show. Sold out. A 10:45 show. Too late. And sold out. They still had IMAX shows, but I have astigmatism and it gives me a headache. The second theater was sold out at 5,6, and 8. There was still a 9;30. I could do that- I hit click and send and it was sold out, too. I kept clicking and checking- no normal times were available on Friday evening.

At first, I blamed myself. How could I have left this to the last minute? What was I thinking? How irresponsible. I was filled with shame. But this shame soon turned to rage. I soon realized this wasn't my fault. I started clicking other towns. Tickets were still available in Jackson, and Brighton. Plymouth, Canton, and Novi, but these involved 20 minute car rides- each way. Unthinkable. It was only a problem in Ann Arbor.

And then I realized it wasn't my fault at all. It was my town. And now I was filled with hate for this town. This stupid town, with its students taking my movie seats. This stupid town with its unending love and devotion to the best story ever written about boy wizards in the last fifteen years. This god-forsaken place with its planful movie patrons. It sickened me to live here.

I then received a message from friends. They thought we could secure 7 pm IMAX tickets. I told them to act quickly. Seriously- stop *working* and get the tickets! (Jobs come and go- this is Harry Potter!) I took a deep breath and looked outside. It was sunny with blue skies. Ann Arbor does has beautiful mornings. I could do IMAX.

The IMAX tickets were sold out. The blue sky and clouds were mocking me. I had reconciled. I was flexible. I was going to pack some Advil on Friday and be a good sport at the IMAX. I sunk to the true depths of despair.

All morning I sat chained to my computer, sharing messages about ticket times and the limited options available. This wretched, wretched town had stolen my evening, my morning, and my innocence.

I am pleased to inform you that I am now ticketed- with friends- at 7:30 pm for Harry Potter. On Sunday. Sunday. I have to wait until Sunday and find a babysitter.

Oh, Ann Arbor and its smug, planful movie patrons.

Reading Rut

Sometimes I get in a reading rut. I can't find anything I want to read. I end up watching TV or surfing the web, aimlessly, instead of reading. Usually when I am in a rut, it means I am stressed about something else. Often it will take me a while to figure out what's really wrong; sometimes it is something I can fix, and sometimes it's not.

It's funny that I find myself in a rut, because as a classroom teacher, I do a lot of teaching about having strategies to maintain a reading life such as having books on deck, revisiting favorites, reading fluff, reading a challenge, revisiting a genre, borrowing a book, getting a recommendation, getting something new, hooking into a genre/author/series, and knowing when to abandon a book.

So recently, I applied these strategies to my own "on deck" list.

Books that have stopped my reading rut or are on deck:

(Rereading a favorite) The Phantom Tollbooth

(Borrowing- now that this is almost overdue at the library, it interests me) Parenting, Inc.

(Revisiting a genre/ Mystery) And Then There Were None

(Recommendation- Thanks, Susan Adamson!) Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life

(Rereading a favorite, Hooking into a series) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

(Reading a Challenge- will need tissues and emotional reserves. This has been on deck for a while.) Ten Thousand Splendid Suns

I think rereading children's novels could count as fluff, but since I am a teacher, it can also be considered professional reading. So keep reading-- because you are what you read! I truly believe that by maintaining our own personal relationship with books (even fluff), we are better able to reach both others and ourselves.

Handwriting and Home

When I was a kindergarten teacher, I remember being pretty peeved when First Grade teachers would stomp downstairs and kvetch about pencil grips and handwriting. Kids had been holding writing utensils for years- and their habits seemed too hard to break.

Teaching simple letter formation rules can really help kids form letters quickly, correctly, and without tiring as easily. But in my personal and professional experience, it is really hard to fix grip and formation in the classroom alone and the solution may need to include a home component as well.

As a writing staff developer, I hesitate to say the h-word (handwriting). Nothing upsets me more than writing workshop being hijacked for handwriting- or postponed until kids are forming letters to teacher specification. Handwriting and writing are initially two very different tasks. At a certain point, grip and formation can greatly impact fluency for writers, so it is something that should be addressed early on in Kindergarten and First Grade (again, separate from writing workshop).

The first simple fix for helping grip is using a vertical surface, such as an easel or taping papers to a wall. It is hard to use a "hook grip" in this way. A bigger instrument, such as a crayola marker is also helpful in getting fingers in the right position. Chalkboards are also helpful; chalk has a great "pull" when it is used and this helps kids get a good feel for writing.

Formation is key. Letters are made top-down, left-right, and counter-clockwise (except b and p). If these basic strokes are overlearned, this is helpful. Muscle memory is powerful. Practicing these strokes is like learning a new dance step. At first, it seems awkward, but then it is second nature. Practicing these strokes with both large motor and graphomotor activities is a good idea. Also, it is essential to be at arm's length of a child when teaching handwriting to monitor formation. How letters look is not nearly as important as how they are formed. Letters formed properly will be legible and handwriting only needs to be neat enough. When things need to be perfect, they are typed.

Another strategy that is often helpful is to have students overlearn the formation of their first and last names. Just practice forming it over and over again. Starting with the first name and eventually adding the last name. Again, close observation of a child while they are learning this is essential. For most kids, their name will provide ample access to practicing basic strokes. Sometimes just printing the lowercase alphabet once a week, with close observation, can have a powerful impact.

While the name is being learned, continue teaching. Talk about the space letters use: tall, short, letters that hang. Talk about the shapes: curvy, straight, dotted. Connect letters that use similar strokes (such as c: o, e, a, d, g, q, s and r: n, m, h). During handwriting practice time- you are the coach!

Above all, keep it positive. Stop before it's time to stop. Don't push to frustration. Reward working hard - not "good work". Sometimes it may seem like the kids who are struggling the most academically have a harder time with handwriting. So keep practices short and positive and focused on working hard.

There are so many important issues in education. Handwriting seems a little silly to worry about- until you see students further down the line struggling with writing fluency in later grades. I once watched a third-grader print a "t" in three stokes- up from the bottom, to the left from the middle to cross, and to the right from the middle to cross. He was struggling to get his fast, great ideas down with his slow, labored writing. (Also, his first name required 2 lowercase t's.) Hopefully, hooking families in early and having minimal (often only weekly, not daily practice is needed) "coached" practice time can repay your investment ten-fold.

For some kids, practice won't be enough. If steady teaching and home involvement don't seem to be helping, the child may need help with visual-perception skills, orthographic coding, or motor planning and execution. But for most kids, practice makes "good enough".

Perfect is not the goal for handwriting. All handwriting needs to be is fast enough so you can get your good ideas on a page, legibly, and feel good about your work. So, stop and give me 5 minutes of practice this week. Just a few minutes can make a huge difference!

What's the Rush?

Last week I read an article in the New York Times about rushing kids into chapter books and the troubled future of the publishing of picture books. I have been milling about it for a few days.

I am bothered by the assumption that reading longer is better. I think reading only chapter books is a huge disservice to children. Children need to read well-written picture books for many reasons. First, visual literacy (artistic elements and methods, use of space, telling stories with pictures and words) has incredible value, especially in our digital age where information is typically presented visually and words alone are not enough. Also, picture books lend themselves to an emotional reaction and rich vocabulary. But also, these texts are about the same length as stories we want children to write. Our young writers can feel how to move a story over pages and experience the structure of a piece similar to one they might use to scaffold their own storytelling. Close study of picture books is the most effective way I have found to teach writing.

Chapter books also have a vital role in reading. They aid children in developing stamina as readers and can help them build a strong identity as a reader. There are many fabulous chapter books written for the early set, many having plenty of pictures to aid in comprehension, problem solving, and enjoyment. I think there is nothing better than the chapter books that changed my life as a child: the Frog and Toad series, "My Father's Dragon", "Ramona the Pest", and "From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler."

But a diet of chapter books only is like a diet of chicken only. Sure- you need protein, but you need other things, too. Children need exposure to magazines, short stories, poetry, picture books, and nonfiction. (I would love the NYT to talk about the boon in publishing of children's nonfiction.) Different kinds of texts require different reading strategies and life experiences to support understanding.

But in reading the article, its comments (387 so far) and the follow-up letters to the editor, I am left asking "What's the rush?" and "Why isn't Shelley Harwayne my neighbor?" Why are we pushing kids to read books at frustration level? This does not teach them how to read better or what it feels like to truly understand what you're reading.

I think this is a case of bad PR. Parents and teachers must live in the world in a way that demonstrates the value, art, and complexity of picture books. It is not about being harder or easier. It is not about pushing kids to read the next level. Teaching reading is about showing kids the value in responding to ideas and integrating them into their own lives. This is supported by word and comprehension strategies, but reading is always about making meaning. Every book you read, every conversation you have, every thought you think and every experience you have shapes who you become.

So, what's the rush? Slow down and go buy a picture book.

Watching and Wondering with Woodpeckers

Last Friday, Fran started the morning by offering some pretty specific instructions. He met Claudia and I at the bottom of the porch steps and told us to be quiet. We followed him into the driveway.

"Listen," he said, pointing up into the tree.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. We looked up and saw a white-and-black-and-tuft-of-red woodpecker peck, peck, pecking in the tree. We stood there together, watching and listening.

It was a fabulous start to our morning. So often we are running and rushing. But today we were still enough to listen. It always shocks me when I slow down and hear the birds singing, enjoying the start of their day. It reminds me to be quiet and notice the world more. Really, mornings are just fabulous.

We took Fran to school, still talking about our woodpecker morning. After drop-off, I let Claudia play with a friend on the playground with a buddy instead of rushing home for my run. She and her friend had a blast climbing on the ladders and hiding under the turtle and dropping some pebbles in the storm drain.

When we were leaving, Claude and her buddy stopped and crouched by the grass to watch a Monarch butterfly sitting in the grass, opening and closing its wings over and over again- either showing them off, drying the dew, or perhaps preparing to fly. I watched the children stay so still, watching the butterfly from just inches away.

Claude and I then said our good-byes to butterflies and friends and started to walk back the way back to the van. I was starting to go through our to-do list and plan out a running route in my mind when we heard it again: tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. We stopped and looked up to see a white-and-black-and-tuft-of-red woodpecker working on someone's house. I'd like to think it was the same woodpecker. I was glad to see him. He had arrived just in time to remind me to take a deep, full breath of the fall air.