Historias del Juego: Un Castillo Discreto

Today, two students were playing in blocks:

You're lucky too! I managed to get a photo without faces so it's blog-worthy.

This is just a brief post, mostly to get myself jump-started on the back log of notes I have for different posts throughout the fall.

What was wonderful to see about this "castillo de casa para la gente para que se acuesten," was the range of abilities incorporated into play. My little pequeñita is one of my more advanced students , ready to tackle the world though maybe kínder first (she was the one who wanted to whack Trump). My pequenín has just recently learned how to build with blocks - for the first 9 weeks his version of block play was destroying everyone else's fabulous structures. But he and his area partner played beautifully and cooperatively for close to a half an hour ; she tolerated him throwing some people or grabbing some of the folks from their restful response, he watched and emulated the building and sleeping actions.

After this photo was taken, he hurled the postman. His friend coached him to bring it back, the postman went back to sleep, and when it was clean-up time they collaborated in putting away all the blocks into their designated areas. Hooray!

Tipos de juego: Social, Object, Fantasy

¡A Votar! An Election Entry of Disillusionment, Activism

(I know this post is far overdue, but I haven't had the heart.)

The day after the final debate, I held up a photograph of the two presidential candidates in the newspaper. I asked my students if they knew who they were, to judge whether talking about the election in class would be remotely relevant to their realm of experience.

In both classes, at least half of my students began an instant and passionate clamor. Included in the commentary:
"¡Los vimos peleando en la tele!" (I saw them fighting in the television!)
"Donaltrum es un hombre malo." (Donald Trump is a bad man.)
"Me gusta Hillary." (I like Hillary.)

I was confirmed then that, like always, our littlest citizens are bright-eyed and taking in everything around them. So, I planned a special election day for November 7.

First, we read an informational slideshow I put together.

 

To all you parents and fellow teachers of young children, I feel you! It was not easy to explain concepts like Economics and Education and Foreign Policy - though I did simplify them into categories of Money, Education, and Mexico. In this election, it was also hard to represent one of the candidates without delving into language far too derogatory, scary, and offensive for my littles. But I did my best. 

We ended the book with a mock election. I taught the word ballot, and gave each student a picture election ballot with two boxes. I collected them - about 3/4 of students in both classes understood the concept and colored next to the candidate they chose - and we tallied them, and declared a winner. I reinforced that this is what their parents would be doing the next day.

 

(I'm sorry I had to crop out her face for privacy reasons. This pequeñita's got a true fire in her expression that any activist would take heart from!)

Then, to create some schoolwide excitement for the election - and also do some color + fine motor + sensory work - we went to the table. I asked the AM class what colors the US flag was - we used those colors to create a "¡VOTE!" collage poster for the lobby.


(It should be noted that they chanted "A Votar, A votar!" the length of the hallway when we went to hang it up."

The afternoon was tasked with the colors of the New Mexican flag:



(A student took this picture)

We felt excited. I know because of citizenship status, some of my families cannot vote; but my students left bouncy and chattering about the election.

On election day, I excitedly planned a little blurb for morning circle. Something along the lines of - "Hey, look! Any one of us can one day be president!" I did my nails.

 

Instead, the next morning, I put on black. I shellacked black over my nails. I had been crying. Many of my families, when they came in, had been crying. From different staff members - cooks to substitutes to full teachers - I heard the phrase "el próximo Hitler" throughout the day. In circletime, we read and sequenced La Viejecita Que No Le Tenía Miedo a Nada, and the parallels were awful to me. If only we could've relegated that scaremonger pumpkin head to the backyard forever!

I saw a meme recently that if Clinton had won, we'd be talking about maternity leave and raising the federal minimum wage. Instead, we're fighting about SNL and Hamilton. I found it funny, but more accurate to those in my field: Instead, we're learning about our students' immigration rights in the event of an ICE raid, and fearing how Betsy DeVos will try to gut our system.

It was then and there I swore, beyond living a daily life of anti-oppression to the best of my abilities, I needed to do something extra each day. I urge you to do the same. (Call a lawmaker, donate to PP or Standing Rock, push back against misconceptions and microagressions.) #personalispolitical.

One of my first acts, then, was updating our blackboard in our entryway mural. I asked my college friend and former Arabic teacher to translate the Arabic - the scrawling handwriting is mine.

 
Even if most families don't notice it, I reasoned, it will be a good reminder for our staff.
But they have. Several of our Middle-Eastern families, a front office staff member told me, have profusely thanked her for that message. "It means so much," they said.

Parents have written me in our daily notes expressing their fear, uncertainty, disillusionment. I have written back to the best of my abilities, and also sent home the district's packet. (Thank you, SFPS. You make me proud to work with you.)

Another moment I recorded on Facebook.
 
(I admit I did laugh at the time, but then played the good social emotional development teacher and we brainstormed better ways that she could voice her anger. I also suggested that she would one day make a very good president and she about burst into sunshine.)

I had one final activity related to the election. (Though you better bet that, given the title of this blog alone, social justice and equity inform every lesson of every day in my classroom.) My good friend teaches upper elementary in Denver; she had shared just how upset and frightened her students were. So, we read a letter about their fears and anger. And we wrote back:


(by the PM, I realized that in some respects my handwriting has not progressed passed about fourth grade and I too sincerely benefit from guiding lines.)

What have you done in your classroom recently to ensure safety and activism?

¡Hasta la victoria siempre!
La Maestra Alix

Historias del Juego: Starting a Howl

This is a short little post:

Yesterday, we were playing in Morado (yes, it's a Wednesday thing), and students were really reveling in climbing / sliding / rolling up and down the big plastic cave.


(Here's the pic again for reference)

This was the PM class, so a different set of niños than last time. One little critter who is notoriously shy - like, at the beginning of the year he once burst into tears at the prospect of handing another student a marker - can come out of his shell a little during free play. His favorite thing in August and September was ambushing me and growling like a tiger. Fun, cute, but very singleton play.

Yesterday, though, he scrambled up on top of the plastic cave, put himself on all fours, faced west (towards the camera in the above picture), threw his head in the air, and began to howl. It was a good howl, too, with the yips and growly bits all worked in nicely.
And do you know what he did?

Yep, Zootopia lovers: he started a howl.

Within three minutes, he was joined by four other students, all howling with abandon. They all adopted his posture, direction, and even emulated his style. It was great to see him not just participating, but also instigating social interaction. It was also pretty adorable. They posted on top of the cave and howled for at least five minutes - until it was time to go inside.

Types of play: Social, Fantasy, Imaginative

Centro de Escritura, 2.0

At the beginning of the year, my writing center was bleak. And I mean bleak: unattractive, messy, and with no draws.
 
 Collective sigh of ennui.

So, about a month ago, I embarked on a "make the center better!" kick. First off, I turned it around -- so instead of being cubbied back in a corner and having only a tiny desk space (or a table to be shared with science and math), it faces the big horseshoe tables that dominate the front of the room. Then, I raided the front office and my desk and my house, read through the ECCRs suggestions, and prettied things up. And Voilá!
 
 Now, that's what I call a writing center!***

Key to the center, I believe, are the:

• Readily available utensils (pens in black and blue, pencils)
• Envelopes
• Different sorts of paper (manila, white, lined, unlined, notebook, graph)
• Stapler (let's be honest; the theme of writing center is often 'come for the stapler, stay for the friends.')

Despite my immense pride in this sucker, come Monday no one was visiting still. And of course: why would they? I realize, in terms of next steps, I should have visual 'prompts' that tie in with our theme - and more actively model using the writing center for 'props' for other centers: writing music for our Teatro, perhaps, or a shopping list for our Casa.

The first step I took, however, was to simply show the worth and versatility of the area. My co-teacher Monique had mentioned seeing a praying mantis in her house the previous week, and our fabulous SLP Sylvia had had one in her bag of "insectos" - teaching la "I" - so I got inspired. I grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil from Escritura, and sat down.






Wooo! Manuscript.

Over the course of free play of a day or two - with frequent interruptions, obviously - I wrote up the manuscript of "La Mantisita." Students would often come by and ask what I was doing. I would explain that I was writing a story, and would then 'think out loud' as I wrote. "¿Hmmm, qué color debe ser? ... ¡Café! Un café profundo y bien bonito." And my pequeñitos, as often as not, would declare that a great idea, grab a utensil or two of their own, and begin to 'write' as well.

If you're not familiar with emergent writing and its (usually pretty clear) stages, check out this link for images, and this one for more information and suggestions. Also, keep reading here! I plan to follow my students' growth on emergent writing pretty closely throughout the year.

After I finished the manuscript, however, I wanted to translate my story to one that my students could access - and also demonstrate, again, the multi-potentiality of the center. So, between Arte y Escritura, I created a little 8 page book (created by folding and stapling 8.5x11 pieces of paper), complete with illustrations.

This process was very exciting for the students. They suggested colors, grabbed paper to do some parallel bookmaking and art, and had a lot of character questions about the little green mantis (especially, of course, "¿¿por qué está llorando??"

I finished on Thursday and read it in circle for a day or two. It was very well-received; students applauded! (This was because of the happy finale, and not any Newberry-quality literature, to be sure.) Here's a scanned version of the book. I could go into the quiet politics of the story, but I think the message of acceptance and ability (and insect Boston marriages) is pretty clear:

 

En fin, it was a delight! Students began to visit the center as well as generate their own work, and I was able to model penning a story I really enjoyed writing.

How are your writing centers? ¿Cómo son sus áreas de escritura?
What stories do you want to tell? ¿Qué historias quieren contar?


***It should be noted that the fabulous writing on the manila clipboard in the revamped center was the scissor, stapler, four-student collaborative work this past week. This was when I was working on my latest little cuento: Meche y la Araña. (Inspired by a friend's beautiful golden orb weaver and also Nikki Giovanni's "Allowables.")

Next steps:

• Thematic tie-in prompts
• Writing center as providing props to other areas
• Active interest, even without a teacher in the area

Historias del Juego: Monstruos en la Cárcel

Historias del Juego: Play Stories

These entries are just what they sound like: narratives of a certain game that a class engaged in independently. Play stories are both a way to respect and value play and a great way to watch how students grow in the sophistication of their communicative and physical worlds. As Penny Wilson puts it,           

"Somehow the storytelling process let us get closer to the playing than we could when we used adult representation of the material. Our team became very good at this and it became lodged in our shared practice. But we were only one team. I knew that the stories of these children’s play needed to be heard widely.
The playing of children with disabilities and their peers is largely misunderstood or forgotten. When we tell the stories of their play we find that people understand with greater clarity what we are trying to say."  (Playwork Primer, pg. 31)

She's pretty brilliant, no? You can see why I've been sold hook, line, and sinker on playwork.
This is also very useful for my PDP and my dossier, as I'm examining our different environments and checking to make sure different play types are accessible throughout our school.

SO! The Play Story: Monsters in the Jail edition.

Two students of mine are very intent on learning how to hang upside down on the monkey bars by their knees, so I've been spotting (and occasionally modeling) when we're playing on this playground. It's called "Morado," or... well, "Purple."

You can't see it in this picture, but the monkey bars are to the right of the sand and water table. So I was pretty focused on making sure other students didn't grab or knock into my emergent bat-hanging children. All of a sudden, however, I noted that there were no other students around - other than the two danglers. Then, I heard a tremendous roar. The rest of the children had risen from a crouch in between the two buildings (to the left of the picture) and raced to the cave (pictured), bellowing and yelping and tickling and laughing and hugging.

Soon, the other two kids joined in. Then, it was all ten of them, following a similar pattern - but improvising on the details. Sometimes they were the monsters escaping from jail; they would grab a friend or a teacher and mime eating them or roaring. Sometimes they would flee the monsters, supposedly still in jail; then they would oftener hug one another and warn their friends, "¡se están escapando!"

I asked my co-teacher and EA Monique, and she reported that two students - notably very verbal, social, bright creatures - had begun this game quietly a few minutes before. I asked them for the origin story of the game and one answered as he ran, "Pos, jugando monstruos." The other elaborated a bit more before racing off: "¡Los monstruos están en la cárcel para no se escaparan todos!"

What I was most thrilled with, however, was the innate scaffolding of the game. Several had stories, fine motor interactions, deepening play. A few other children, who although they have limited verbal comprehension and output, were able to fully participate, and even make more complex the game. Following a couple of these students, the game evolved into hiding in the cave (mientras gritaban hacia los monstruos) and then leaping from the top of the cave into the wood chips.

Even my student who struggles to walk fluidly and often does not interact with other children - preferring simple, repetitive self-games of twirling in a circle, singing to herself, and inspected metal bars - watched for a couple rounds and then joined in! They all raced from the space between the buildings and bellowed away. It was delightful.

Types of play: Rough and Tumble, Social, Communication, Locomotor, and Fantasy play. (a little bit of Deep play with the leaping from the cave)

¡Hasta pronto!

¡Bienvenidos! Come on in

Hello, there, Reader --

Welcome to Prekínder Revolución. Herein you'll find the idea sharing, reflections, and general radical opinions of a special needs, bilingual preschool teacher. In the field, there's a lot to be excited about! ...and a lot to be infuriated about.

I'm beginning this in my fourth year as a bilingual, special needs pre-k teacher, and my sixth in education. I work in New Mexico, which means I'll be doing my dossier this year. (A big teaching portfolio that is the vetting process between license levels.) Wooo! So you'll find that certain posts may be geared more towards data gathering for that process than anything.

A big thrust for my pedagogy this year is working on opportunities for the sophistication of play and therefore subsequent development of autonomy, empathy, creativity, etc. If you don't know anything about the 16 types of play, play stories, and the value of open-ended, risk-taking play (esp. in Early Childhood Education), I highly recommend starting here with Penny Wilson's Playwork Primer.

Did you read it?
Great! ¡Vámanos!
Here's an introduction to my classroom:

 

Mira; here it is! It's divided into different play areas, including big main tables that double as snack/art tables and a center circle rug area that doubles as blocks.

This year I integrated a few organizationally different things that I've been thrilled with so far. One is my end-of-day circle, which I turned into a song + dance time. While I participate and act as a model for choreography and tunes, it's pretty student-led. See?

 

Okay, let me tell you what you're looking at. Each little picture represents a song -- students take turns choosing a song. They take it off from the margin (they're all velcro-ed) and place it on the felt board. (Eventually, we'll have all 25 like here. But we started the year with 6, and we add a new song a week.)

They love it! They. Love. It. Especially popular right now are "La Granja," "El Coquí," and, of course, "Chocolate." I am eternally indebted to José-Luis Orozco, and you should be too. Check him out here.  

The part of the song board that I'm especially proud of, however, is that it corresponds with the CDs, pictures, and song books in the Teatro area. Look!

For instance, the picture that has the little drummer on it is for "Al Tambor." If you turn it over, it has the number 4 on a piece of red tape on it. If you open the songbook that features "Al Tambor," that page also has red tape with the number 4. And if you put in the corresponding CD and click it to track number 4, you'll hear... That's right! "Al Tambor." Obviously, at this point we're just learning the songs and investigating all the objects in the areas. But they've begun to correspond the pictures on the song board with the pictures in the songbook, so poco a poco.

The other big new part of set-up was my sign-in. Until this year, I've had students sign in by tracing their name on a whiteboard. From what I've read about pre-writing, however, I realized it would be better to have something where students can sit and practice writing how they will actually write. It's also fun for them to have a sign-in that's similar to what their parents use for pick up.

 

(I downloaded the Kimberly Geswein Primary Dots typeface. You can find it here. Then I printed 'em out, placed dots on where to start the letters,  laminated them, and placed them in a binder.)

For more hands-on and mobile little learners, I also made another sign-in option:

Pretty neat, no? :) (If you didn't notice, the consonants are blue and the vowels red. You can get sets here.) Like the other, it's an excellent formative assessment tool; I have kids who can find their name in the basket and spell their names while identifying every letter correctly. I also have kids who struggle to match letters and place them appropriately.

Another big focus of my year, then, is to adequately address and enrich the levels of all my students. They represent an especially big range; for instance, I have students who are learning to speak and match colors, and students who are completing basic addition.

 

A final couple of images are my whiteboard and my kids' palitos. When we have beginning day circle, we do "¿Quién vino a la escuela?" Students identify their names and put them in their corresponding pocket. Then, as a group, we sequence our schedule for the day: El Horario. On a typical day, after we've eaten, played in Choices (more about that later), played outside, and done our Storytime Circle, it's free play. Then, students can move their sticks from their pockets down into the corresponding area where they wish to play.

Everyone is still learning how to monitor their own play and move their stick accordingly -- a couple students are still working on picture identification. However, I've found that it's a great way to both reinforce name recognition and work on play metacognition. ("¿Dónde quiero jugar, y por cuánto tiempo?")

SO! That's the introduction to my classroom. Stay tuned for play stories and further thoughts.
¡Muchos thank yous por leer!