Art For Sale

My school has a small but wonderful PTA who organized a fun Art Night for us this evening.  Each classroom displayed art projects, and we invited parents to drop by and buy their child's art for a donation to the PTA.  Here are just a few pictures of some of the displayed art.  My mustached kids are first. 

The PTA also invited staff members to donate their own artsy or creative creations for a silent auction.  I made these three pieces.

The final numbers aren't in, but it looks like we raised over $1,200.00.  :)

Saturday Sayings: Failure or Feedback?

I had one of those moments this week of thinking, "Nope, won't do that again."  I thought I had a creative art lesson on my hands, integrating their names with a Pinterest project I found.  There were simply a few pivotal aspects of the morphed product I envisioned in my head that I hadn't taken into consideration before putting it into the hands of first graders.  It was a classic moment of "This is what it looks like on Pinterest," and "This is what it looks like in real life."  I'm happy to say the kiddos were very much engaged and proud of their finished products though.  They reviewed letters, specifically vowels, as well as syllables.  They learned how to properly use glue bottles too, which is a coveted skill in a first grade teacher's life.  It wasn't a complete waste of time.

Failure viewed as feedback comes my way on a fairly consistent basis, but I know how to give myself a break.  This is one of the gifts I've learned to generously grant myself over the years.  Without it, I would have considered myself a failure years ago.  It's a must-have in the classroom.  

I've heard of the teacher who wouldn't have easily recovered from a lesson like the one I described above.  They would have been so engrossed in frustration that they couldn't reflect on what went well or the changes they might make.  Self-critisism is a tough place to grow from though.  It's paralyzing.  

Instead of stopping me in my tracks, feedback has the potential to propel me towards better practices.  In fact, my students and I are continually benefiting from my failed moments of years gone by.  Those experiences have left a positive stamp on my practice.  Honestly, I can think of a few that do make me cringe, and for a second I'm tempted to stop and hover in the moment, but mostly, I try to embrace the thankful thoughts of knowing I've grown from the feedback.  I'm expecting many more nope-won't-do-that-again moments, but knowing they don't equal failure but instead equal movement forward makes them much more bearable.

September Recommendations

I typically do a terrible job of reading as much as I'd like once school starts.  I've been determined to fix that.  So far, so good.  Here are my September reads.  I'd highly recommend many of these, so do check them out or put them on your list when you can track down some extra reading time.

This one is kind of magical and kept me wondering to the very end.

This was one of my favorites of the month.  It's so very clever.

I'd give this one 3 out of 5 stars.  It was good but not great.

Attachments was a little bit slower than Landline but still clever and worth reading.

This is a quick, delightful read.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.

This one was also well worth my time.  It's a great story.

I can say the same about this book as well.  Laurie from Chickadee Jubilee gave me a great recommendation with Sarah Addison Allen.  Thanks Laurie!

Saturday Sayings: Good vs. Great

Yesterday Lauren shared her Me in a Bag with us.  After her presentation, I asked her what her audience did well.  She told the class she loved their smiles and the way they were able to appropriately comment at the end.  She also enjoyed the way they consistently nodded.  As a presenter, which is exactly what I called her, she had it easy.  I taught her audience to do all those things she noticed and appreciated.  If only all audiences were as responsive.  

But it's not always the audience's fault.  I've agonized for the presenter who didn't seem to notice they'd lost the crowd.  They obliviously plowed right ahead, dragging everyone else along.  Dave Burgess is right.  Some speakers or teachers, in this instance, have what seems like an innate ability to know when they need to take their audience to a different place.  

I have to be careful when I say this, because I don't want it to be taken the wrong way.  I only say it to make a point.  I've heard classroom observers remark that I make teaching look easy.  What they don't know is that I'm doing about a million things at once.  There's nothing easy about that.  One of the million is simply keeping a crew of little people engaged.  I'm a pretty Even Stephen personality type in real life, but in the classroom I can become someone else.  I can ramp up the enthusiasm for sure.  I'd like to think I've got some of the innate ability that Dave Burgess mentions, yet I guarantee there are moments when I'm simply good at what I do instead of great.  When my audience sends me signals I don't have the energy to attend to, and I plow ahead instead of taking them to a different place, I'm just good.  Dave Burgess claims to be "on" 100% of the time and I believe him.  Some might say that's all pie in the sky and impossible to achieve, but in my book it's a worthwhile goal to shoot for.

Mustached Self-Portraits

Today my artists drew Salvador Dali-inspired self-portraits.  I found the idea from There's a Dragon in my Art Room.  

(The artwork above is from There's a Dragon in my Art Room.)

I switched it up by having my kids draw themselves instead of Dali.  I really love how they turned out.

Doable and Durable

Anyone who has read my blog for any amount of time has noticed that we make a plethora of classroom books in my class.  We create so many that I try to vary how I make them.  I'm not sure that variety is the spice of my own life, but it comes in handy in first grade sometimes.  I thought I'd share one of my methods and the tips that make it both doable and durable.  

When making books with photos, sometimes I print two to a page and then fold in half.  It saves on cutting and gluing.  

Since these books are very popular with the kids, they need to be durable, but I don't have time to laminate them.  Plus, I think it's kind of a waste of money.  Laminating film is not cheap.  Clear packing tape makes books like this last so much longer.  Once the page is folded over, I place half of a strip of clear packing tape on the open side of one page and then fold the tape over to attach it to the other side.  It attaches the two open sides together and creates a durable edge that is then ready to be bound with all the others.  Again, no glue needed.

If you're interested in seeing more about classroom books, look on the right side of my blog under "labels" and look for "classroom books." 

May your classroom books be ever doable and durable!

Saturday Sayings: Legos, Barbies, and Video Games

There are benefits to teaching little people.  These are the students who repeatedly pester their parents during the late summer days about when the first day of school is.  For the most part, first graders want to come to school, although I've certainly met some who felt differently.  I'm not sure what would happen if we all decided they didn't have to be there but were more than welcome to come if they wanted.  Would I be teaching to an empty room?  It would make for an interesting experiment.  

Dave Burgess' question spurred my own question.  What exactly are the qualities of a classroom that would trump all the other facets of life that beg for our students' attention?  It seems only natural to answer from the standpoint of my own experience as a student.  What would keep me coming back even if I weren't required to?

I feel loved.

I'm important.

I'm noticed.

I feel successful.

I'm interested in the content.

I have a personal connection to the content. 

The content is relevant to my life. 

I have choice.

I have a chance to shine in a way that fits my personality.

There's time to apply and practice what I'm learning.

My attempts and approximations are accepted.

I'm celebrated.

I get to do, move, and take breaks.

My instructor believes in me.

(I could continue.)

The student in me is probably not much different than the 23 students in my class.  This list, although nowhere near exhaustive, sure does make me stop and think about whether my classroom offers my kids the chance to experience something they could not live without.  Would they show up if they didn't have to or would they be overwhelmingly drawn to their Legos, Barbies, and video games?